















Glass _"P Zl 

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Copyright M° Br t* 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



























BOOKS BY PENN SHIRLEY. 


BOY DONALD SERIES . 

Illustrated. Price per volume, 75 cents. 

‘Boy ‘Donald. 

‘Boy ‘Donald and His Chum. 

LITTLE MISS WEEZY SERIES . 

Illustrated. Price per volume, 75 cents. 
Little cMiss Weezy. 

Little cMiss Weezy's ‘Brother . 

Little cMiss Weezy's Sister. 

THE SILVER GATE SERIES . 

Illustrated. Price per volume, 75 cents. 
Young cMaster Kirke. 

The cMerry Five. 

The Happy Six. 

COMPLETE CATALOGUES FREE. 


LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS, BOSTON. 




Donny and Julie play" with tiieir white mice Frontispiece 




BOY DONALD SERIES 


BOY DONALD 

AND HIS CHUM 


BY 


PENN SHIRLEY 


AUTHOR “LITTLE MISS WEEZY,” “ 


LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S SISTER,” 
LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER,” “ YOUNG MASTER KIRKE,” 
“THE MERRY FIVE,” “ THE HAPPY SIX,” 

“ BOY DONALD.” 


j > > > 


> > > > 
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> » > > 
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> > > 


> > > > > 


ILLUSTRATED BY BERTHA G. D4V10SON 

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BOSTON 

LEE AND SHEPARD 

1901 


THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 
Two Copies Received 



JUl. 5 1901 


Copyright entry 


7ruy r ,c i°' 

CLASS ^XXc. Nw. 

gsoo 

COPY B. 


Copyright, 1901, by LEE & SHEPARD 


All rights reserved 


Boy Donald and His Chum 


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nortooob press 

Berwick & Smith, Norwood, Mass,, 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Donald Discovers His Twin 7 

II. A Flurry of Temper 22 

III. Dividing With Julius 33 

IV. The White Mice 45 

V. The Chinese Luncheon-Box 57 

VI. Weezy’s Mishap 68 

VII. A Reward of Merit 77 

VIII. “ Weezy Villa” 88 

IX. The House Party 96 

X. Off for the Bee-Ranch no 

XI. Jim Crow Plays Truant 120 

XII. The Twins Astray 127 

XIII. The Empty “Wagon-Chamber” *34 

XIV. A Happy Home-Coming 145 



List of Illustrations 


Donny and Julie play with their white mice. Frontispiece 

PAGE 

“ Boo, hoo, hoo ! you’ve smashed my head, Donny 


Woe,” shrieked Julie 17 

She discovered Boy Donald in his tiny garden... 64 
The next comers were the twins 102 


















BOY DONALD 


CHAPTER I 

DONALD DISCOVERS HIS TWIN 

Little Donald Rowe lived in a cream-col- 
ored cottage, which had a broad lawn in front, 
bordered with palms. Just around the corner, 
in a brown wooden house with a tower on one 
side of it, lived Donald’s little chum, Julius 
Fay. 

That is, the Fays all lived in the brown 
house during the summers. In the winters they 
removed to a large ranch far away, called Casa 
de Rosas , which is Spanish for House of Roses. 

“ It is too bad that you have to go away every 


7 


8 


BOY DONALD 


winter. I don’t like it,” said Weezy Rowe to 
Brenda Fay. Brenda was Weezy’s dearest 
friend, and had just called to see her. 

“ O, but it’s so nice at the ranch,” returned 
Brenda. “ I just wish you could go with us 
sometime.” 

“ Me too ! ” put in Donald. 

The Fays always traveled in a great covered 
wagon, fitted up with fine accommodations for 
cooking and sleeping. Donald had heard all 
about it over and over again. Brenda often 
talked to Weezy of these delightful journeys 
to and from the city. She told how the family 
camped out of doors at night and cooked their 
meals gypsy-fashion over an open fire ; and she 
always ended by saying, “ O Weezy, I do hope 
you can go with us sometime ! ” 

She said it again this morning; and when 
Donald pleaded, “ Me too ! Take me too ! ” 
Brenda little thought that Donald would go be- 
fore Weezy did, and that he would meet with 


DONALD DISCOVERS HIS TWIN 


9 


a very strange adventure. This will all be 
told by and by — in the proper place. 

Just now Donald heard something which 
made his eyes shine. Weezy was saying, 

“ I’ve been thinking, Brenda, how queer it is 
that Julius and Donald should have the same 
birthday. They are twins — sort of.” 

“ Yes, that’s so,” laughed Brenda. 

“Twins, are we? Why for are we, 
Weezy ? ” queried Boy Donald, with a hop and 
a skip. He liked the word “ twins.” 

“ O, because you’re four and a half years 
old, Donny, and Julius is four and a half years 
old, and you were both born on the very same 
day ; don’t you see ? ” 

“ Yes,” added Brenda. “ You’re little make- 
believe twin-brothers.” 

“ We’re little make-believe twin brothers,” 
echoed Boy Donald with a shout. “ I’ll tell 
Julie of that.” 

He could not wait to go to Julius’s house, but 


IO BOY DONALD 

ran to the telephone, rang the bell, and called 
out: 

“ Hello, Julie!” 

It was not half a minute before Julius an- 
swered. 

“ Hello yourself ! ” 

The two chums were very fond of talking 
through the telephone. 

“ Come right over here, Julie, quick as you 
can come. We’re twins ! ” 

“ Who said so? ” returned Julius. 

“ I said so,” said Donald. “ Come quick ! ” 

And as there was great haste required 
Julius put on his sombrero hat and ran out 
of the house as fast as he could go. He and 
Donald met half way in the middle of the side- 
walk. 

“ We’re little make-believe twin-brothers, 
Julie,” exclaimed Donald stopping to give his 
chum a hug and a squeeze. “ You’re twins and 
I’m twins; we’re bof of us twins! ” 


DONALD DISCOVERS HIS TWIN 


ii 


“When was it?” asked Julius rather be- 
wildered. “ Who said so ?” 

“ Weezy said so, and Brenda said so. Said 
so just now.” 

“Honest?” Julius could hardly get his 
breath. “ Then I s’pect, Donny, we’re re-la- 
ta-tions! ” 

Donald withdrew his arms from the neck of 
his beloved victim without venturing a reply. 
Then he hurried Julius along toward the 
chicken-yard. They were going to visit a half 
dozen black Minorca fowls, lately presented to 
little Miss Weezy by Captain Bradstreet, who 
lived just over the way. 

“ Don’t you s’pect we’re re-la-ta-tions, 
Donny?” persisted Julius, proud of the new 
word picked up nobody knew where, and en- 
larged to suit himself. 

“ Naw, naw, we’re not those! ” Donald 
shook his head in scorn. “ Weezy didn’t say 
that ! We’re make-believe twin-brothers, that’s 


12 


BOY DONALD 


what she and Brenda said. We’re make-believe 
twin-brothers, ’cause we’re bof just as old as 
each other. There ! ” 

“ Oh,” said Julius, winking fast in his effort 
to understand. 

“ But my Kirke isn’t twins to me, Julie. 
Kirke is just plain brother to me. And that’s 
every bit Kirke is ! ” 

“ Oh ! ” said Julius again. 

This time he was not listening. They had 
entered the chicken-yard, and he was engrossed 
in watching the Minorca cock and five of his 
wives pecking at the barley-heads recently 
scattered for them by their young mistress, 
Miss Weezy. 

“ There’s another biddy somewhere,” re- 
marked Donald, standing on tiptoe to open the 
door of the chicken house. “ Hark, don’t you 
hear her ?” 

“ There she is, up stairs,” cried Julius, peep- 
ing in over Donald’s shoulder. 


DONALD DISCOVERS HIS TWIN 


13 


On the edge of the high scaffold in front of 
them perched a handsome jet-black hen, cran- 
ing her neck this way and that, and cackling 
with all her might. When she saw the little 
boys entering her premises she flew down in 
great excitement and fluttered by them, scream- 
ing “ Cut-cut-cut-a-cut.” 

“ What makes that biddy holler so ?” cried 
Julius, skurrying into a corner. 

“Why, Julie, don’t you know? She’s tell- 
ing ’bout she’s laid an egg,” answered Donald 
wisely. “ Let’s go up the ladder and hunt for 
it.” 

“ That biddy talks too loud, I think,” said 
cautious little Julius, advancing with some 
misgivings. 

“ Hoh, you needn’t be scared, biddies won’t 
bite,” continued Donald, eager to instruct his 
little twin. 

Julius did not receive the instruction kindly, 
but retorted with spirit, “ Don’t I know biddies 


14 


BOY DONALD 


haven’t any teef, Donny Woe? Guess I’ve 
seen biddies at my papa’s wanch! Only I’d 
most forgot about ’em,” he truthfully added. 

He had had time to forget, for it was now 
many months since the Fay family had lived 
at Casa de Rosas, their country home. 

“ Well, anyway I don’t believe your papa’s 
biddies are Knockers ” returned Donald, not 
to be crushed. “ Come on up the ladder. I’ll 
go first.” 

“ Step easy Donny, don’t make it tremble,” 
cried Julius, slowly following him. 

Having reached the scaffold, the children 
ran to a barrel of straw next the wall, and 
found in it three large white eggs. 

“ Look, Donny, look,” exclaimed Julius, 
wild with delight. “ That biddy has laid one, 
two, three eggs this morning.” 

“Whoopee! Won’t Weezy be spwyzed?” 
exclaimed Donald, reaching down into the nest 
and drawing out an egg. 


DONALD DISCOVERS HIS TWIN 


T 5 

“Shan’t we take ’em all, Donny?” asked 
Julius, picking up an egg himself. 

“ No, indeedy ! ” Donald shook his golden 
head decidedly. “ Weezy never takes out the 
last egg. Weezy leaves the last egg for biddy.” 

“ Course she does. ’Twouldn’t be p’lite to 
take the very last one,” said Julius, mindful 
of past lessons in table manners. “ But I wish 
we could turn it wrong side out. I like to see 
the lallow of it.” 

Julius always said lallow when he meant 
yellow. 

“ We oughter brought a basket,” he con- 
tinued, with a puzzled glance at the egg he 
was holding. How was he to carry it safely 
down the ladder, and at the same time cling 
to the ladder with both hands? 

“ Might put the eggs in our pockets,” sug- 
gested Boy Donald. 

“ Mine won’t go in,” said Julius, after mak- 
ing the trial. 


i6 


BOY DONALD 


“ O dear, mine won’t either,” sighed Don- 
ald a moment later. “ I wish folks wouldn’t 
make such teeny pockets.” 

Meanwhile Julius had been reflecting to 
some purpose. 

“ See here, Donny, I’ve thought of some- 
thing splendid,” he cried; and opening his 
blouse proceeded to button his egg inside it. 
Then in high feather he strutted off to the 
ladder, his gray blouse puffing out in front like 
the breast of a pouter pigeon. 

“ Why didn’t my mamma let me wear my 
blouse to-day?” murmured Donald, following 
with his own egg in his hand and a pang of 
envy in his heart. “ This jacket is ever so 
tight. It won’t hold anything ’cept me.” 

Julius did not reply. He had begun to de- 
scend the ladder and was moving with extreme 
caution. 

“ There you go, creep, creep, Julie. Go 



"Boo, HOO, Iioo! You’ve smashed my head, Bonny Woe,” 

shrieked Julie Page 17 


































































DONALD DISCOVERS HIS TWIN 


17 

quick, same as I do,” called out his conceited 
little companion, stepping briskly upon the 
upper rung of the ladder. 

“ Donny, you joggle ! You’ll joggle me off,” 
cried terrified Julius, a few feet below him. 

“ O what a ’fraid-cat, Julie ! Look at me. 
I’m not a speck a ” — 

Donald never finished the sentence, for just 
then something happened. Something unex- 
pected. The egg slipped from his chubby little 
hand and fell plump on the head of his luckless 
twin, breaking there and trickling in a slug- 
gish yellow stream down the child’s hair, face 
and neck. 

“ Boo, hoo, hoo ! You’ve smashed my head, 
Donny Woe, you’ve smashed my head,” 
shrieked the poor little fellow, scrambling to 
the floor and groping his way into the yard. 
There he was met by Weezy, coming to see 
what was the matter. 


1 8 BOY DONALD 

“ Why, Julie Fay, such a sight as you are ! ” 
she exclaimed merrily, “ What have you been 
doing to yourself?” 

“ Haven’t done the leastest, leastest thing,” 
sobbed Julius, his eyelids fairly glued together. 
“ Boo, hoo, hoo, ’twas Donny did it ! Donny 
hopped on the ladder, and heaved the egg at 
me; — ’most cracked my head open.” 

“ O, I never ! ” protested Donald, overtaking 
Weezy and his twin near the back door of the 
house. “ I never heaved the egg, it heaved it- 
self! It did, Weezy!” 

“ You mean you dropped it, you careless 
boy! And now it’s ruined and I can’t sell it 
to mamma. Mamma promised to buy all the 
eggs my hens laid.” 

Julius wondered that Weezy should care for 
the loss of the egg. 

“ Donny hurted me,” he interrupted, “ hurted 
me and stickted my hair all up.” 

“ Yes,” said Weezy, “ ’twas too bad. I shan’t 


DONALD DISCOVERS HIS TWIN 


*9 


let you bring in the eggs any more, Donny, if 
you don’t hold ’em tight.” 

Donald looked very much aggrieved. “ I 
tried to hold ’em tight, Weezy, yes, I did. But 
how could I, Weezy, when God didn’t give me 
but just two hands, you know, and I wanted 
bof of ’em to hold on to the ladder wiv?” 

Weezy averted her face to hide a smile, and 
saw Hop Kee, the cook, standing on the porch 
scowling. 

“ What for makee too muchee bobblely that 
side, Julie?” said he, which was Chinese for 
asking what all the noise was about? 

This made Julius wail louder than ever. 

“ Don’t cry, Julie,” said Weezy, taking the 
egg which he handed her from the inside of 
his blouse and passing it to Hop Kee. “ I’ll 
lead you home in a minute and your mamma 
will scrub you all clean in the bath-tub.” 

Then she ran into the house, and Julius said 
crossly to his make-believe twin: 


20 


BOY DONALD 


“ You shan’t go to my papa’s wanch, Donny 
Woe! I don’t want to play with boys what 
frow eggs at me!” 

“ Didn’t do it to purpose, Julie ! ” responded 
Donald, beginning to cry. “ I didn’t, truly.” 

“ Yes, you did, you did it to purpose,” re- 
torted forlorn little Julius, digging his smeared 
fists into his eyes. “ Hurted me orfly, stickted 
me all up.” 

“ Didn’t mean to,” insisted Donald crying 
now very hard. “ ’Twas only but just for an 
accident, now certigly.” 

“ Truly true, Donny? ” 

“Yes, truly true, Julie! And we’re twins 
too.” 

Julius slowly removed his fists from his eyes, 
and deigned a glance at his penitent friend. 
He had forgotten that he and Donald were 
twins. 

“ ’Sides, I won’t do so any more, Julie. And 
I’m sorry too. I’m sorry as a — a — pig.” 


DONALD DISCOVERS HIS TWIN 


21 


What more could Donald have said? Even 
sulky little Julius was satisfied, when Donald 
added beseechingly, “ Let’s make and kiss up.” 
Julie threw his arms around his little play- 
mate’s neck, and left upon his mouth a print 
of two yellow lips. 

“ You shall go to my papa’s wanch wiv me, 
Donny. I’ll let you,” he said sweetly, as 
Weezy came back. 


CHAPTER II 


A FLURRY OF TEMPER 

Julius did not appear at the Rowe’s again 
that day ; and early next morning Donald went 
to Mr. Fay’s to see what had become of his 
little twin. 

Weezy went too, carrying under her arm a 
last year’s Delineator, from which she and her 
beloved Brenda were to cut out the figures in 
the colored fashion plates. The stylishly 
dressed ladies made lovely paper dolls. Of 
these the girls had collected eighty apiece, and 
each was ambitious to raise the number to one 
hundred. Brenda said it was hard telling 
“ which was which ” among so many dolls ; 
but Weezy had solved this difficulty by writing 
the name of every doll upon the back of its 
head. 


22 


A FLURRY OF TEMPER 


23 


Brenda was seated at a window in the tower, 
this morning-, watching for her friend ; and the 
instant Weezy and Donald crossed the street 
called out softly, 

“ Come right up stairs, Weezy dear. Come 
on tiptoe, because George is asleep.” 

George was Brenda’s older brother. 

“O dear, is he sick again?” asked Weezy 
in a sorry tone. 

“ Yes, sick abed, and mamma says we must 
be very quiet. Donny and Julie will have to 
play out of doors.” 

Weezy stole up to the tower-chamber, and 
Boy Donald ran into the yard, where he sur- 
prised his make-believe twin on his knees be- 
fore his cage of white mice. The cage was in 
the form of a Swiss cottage, and had in one 
end of it a little wire whirligig. 

“Feeding the mice, are you, Julie?” asked 
Donald, kneeling close beside his little chum. 
“ What are you giving them to eat ? ” 


24 


BOY DONALD 


“ Cheese-peelings.” And Julius dropped an- 
other rind into the cage. 

He looked quite unlike the egg be-spattered 
little boy of yesterday. To-day he wore a clean 
blouse, and his dark straight hair seemed 
straighter than ever, with all the natural oil 
shampooed out of it. Donald thought his little 
twin was very sweet and dear, and stole one 
arm around his waist because he loved him so. 
Donald had forgotten yesterday’s disaster. If 
he had been the sufferer instead of Julius he 
would have forgotten all the same. Donald 
never brooded over grievances as Julius did. 

“ Don’t those teeniest mouses take the nip- 
ping-est little bites, Julie ! ” said he, after a 
good long look at the engaging young family 
of mice. There were seven in all; the father, 
mother, and five children. 

“ Yes, don’t they take the nipping-est bites? ” 
said Julius. “ I guess they’re just learning 
how to chew.” 


A FLURRY OF TEMPER 


25 


“Yes, they take weeny, weeny mouthfuls; 
but see their greedy old papa and mamma,” 
cried Donald indignantly. “ They’re eating up 
the cheese as fast as ever they can! See ’em 
nibble that piece over there, that great big 
bunch ! ” 

“ Bunch ” was an unfortunate word to use, 
for it reminded Julius at once of the lamented 
bunch on the top of his head. He passed his 
hand over his crown and succeeded in finding a 
small discolored rising near the parting of his 
hair. 

“ There, see what you did to me, Donny,” 
he said, showing this spot to his little visitor 
with an air half proud, half reproachful. “ You 
made that bunch your own self! Put your 
finger on it. See how sore it is ! ” 

Donald fingered the tiny lump as requested, 
remarking coolly, “ Poh, it doesn’t feel sore 
a bit. Tisn’t bigger’n a fly! ” 

“ Well, ’twas big yist’day, big as a bushel 


26 


BOY DONALD 


— ’most ! ” cried the sufferer, deeply offended. 
“ I shouldn’t wonder if it’s swelling now inside 
of my head,” he added triumphantly. “ Honest ! 
I shouldn’t wonder if that bunch swelled and 
swelled and — swelled, and bursted my head 
right open ! My blue balloon bursted itself all 
to pieces ! ” 

“ Ho, your head isn’t a speck like a balloon, 
Julie, not a speck ! ” 

“ How do you know, Donny Woe? ” 

“ ’Cause your head is hard, Julie. You 
couldn’t crack it open if you should try, — not 
’thout you had a hammer.” 

“ You don’t know a thing about my head, 
Donny Woe! How do you know it won’t 
burst open ? ” 

Donald was not listening. He was locking 
at the largest white mouse which had crept 
into the whirligig and was making it revolve 
rapidly. 

“ And if my head does burst open, Donny 


A FLURRY OF TEMPER 


27 


Woe, ’twill be all your fault! You hit it like 
everything.” 

“Well, didn’t I tell you I was sorry?” ex- 
claimed Donald, glancing around in astonish- 
ment at this unexpected renewal of yesterday’s 
quarrel. 

Had not he and Julius kissed and made up, 
— or to use his own expression, — “ made and 
kissed up ” long ago ? Though too young to 
reason it out he felt in his heart that this should 
have ended the matter. After he had once said 
he was sorry it was not fair in Julius to twit 
him about the mishap. And do you not think 
that Donald was right? 

“Didn’t I say I was sorry, Julie?” he re- 
peated earnestly. 

“ Y-e-s, you said so,” hesitated Julius, “ but 
you said it kind of easy. I don’t believe you 
were sorry enough ! ” 

“ O yes, I was, Julie. Yes, I was.” 

“ I don’t believe you were, Donny. See 


28 


BOY DONALD 


that bunch.” Julius fumbled for the bruise on 
his head. “ I’m pretty sure you hurt me more’n 
you were sorry.” 

“ O no, I didn’t, Julie.” 

“ And you don’t call me twins any more 
either.” 

“ ’Cause you know we’re it, Julie, that’s 
why.” 

“ And you don’t care a drop ’cause you’ve 
made me all black and blue-y.” 

“ Yes I do, Julie, I care lots and lots.” 

“ Do you though ? How much ? ” 

The dark cloud was lifting from Julius’s 
face. He looked almost happy. 

“ O, fifty hundred hundred bushels, Julie.” 

“All that, Donny?” 

“ Yes, and more too ! ” 

“ O goody, I’m ever and ever so glad,” said 
Julius. 

And his jealousy at last appeased he and 
Donald “ made and kissed up ” again to their 


A FLURRY OF TEMPER 


2 9 


own satisfaction and the vast entertainment 
of their sisters at the tower window above 
them. 

“ I didn’t hear their talk, but I suppose 
they’ve been having a little tiff,” remarked 
Brenda, as she went on cutting from the fash- 
ion-book a beautifully-dressed bride. “ And 
Donald is always the one that gives in first. I 
think he’s a little dear.” 

“ So do I, — all but his tantrums,” said 
Weezy with a laugh. 

“ Tantrums, Weezy? ” 

“ Yes ; you know once in a while he flies into 
a passion, and screams and hops up and down. 
That’s what Kirke calls ‘ a tantrum.’ If you 
let Donald alone, though, he always comes out 
of it in a minute or two, and is just as ashamed 
as he can be.” 

“ That’s so, Weezy. Pshaw, I shouldn’t 
mind tantrums like those. They’re not half as 
bad as the grumps. Julie has the grumps.” 


3 <> 


BOY DONALD 


“ I know it. Julie is grumpy sometimes ; 
but he never does anything bad. He never 
stamps and kicks,” said Weezy, rolling a morsel 
of white wax between her thumb and fore- 
finger. 

“ No. Julie doesn’t get into rages. He 
sulks.” 

“ Just as you do yourself, Brenda Fay,” 
thought Weezy ; but she was careful not to say 
it aloud. 

“ Julius wouldn’t eat any dinner last night,” 
went on Brenda, “ because mamma happened 
to say we might not go to Casa de Rosas this 
winter. He wants to go dreadfully, and so do 
I.” 

“ I thought you always went there winters,” 
said Weezy. “ Look Brenda, isn’t this pretty? ” 
And she exhibited the doll she had made by 
fastening a walking costume with wax to the 
neck of a bodiless lady. 

“ It’s a beauty,” said Brenda with an admir- 


A FLURRY OF TEMPER 


3i 


ing nod. Then after a pause, “ Yes, we’ve 
always gone to the ranch winters; but papa 
and mamma are afraid George can’t bear the 
journey now. I don’t believe ’twould hurt him 
though. He could lie down in the bottom of 
the wagon all the way. Do you believe the 
drive would hurt him, Weezy? ” 

“ No indeed, I don’t believe it would,” an- 
swered Weezy as confidently as if she had 
known anything about it. 

“ Only if George should be ill at the ranch 
mamma says she shouldn’t like being so far 
from a doctor. We’re shut in by the moun- 
tains, you know, at Casa de Rosas.” 

“ It must be a lovely place, just lovely,” cried 
Weezy, clasping her hands. “ But I can’t help 
being glad you’re not going there very soon, 
Brenda. I should miss you awfully.” 

“ Should you ? O, I don’t think you’d miss 
me very much. You like Pauline Bradstreet 
better’n you do me!” 


32 


BOY DONALD 


Ah, if Brenda had only known how much 
this sounded like Julius. 

“ Pauline? The idea ! ” said Weezy. “ Why, 
Pauline is ever and ever so old. She isn’t my 
chum ; she’s Molly’s.” 

And Brenda knew this very well and was 
satisfied. Only she almost wanted to go to the 
ranch just to let Weezy find out how lone- 
some it would be without her ! Perhaps George 
might be quite well by to-morrow or at any 
rate next week. If so they would go. 


CHAPTER III 


DIVIDING WITH JULIUS 

The next morning George Fay was better. 
But as the weeks went on he did not gain 
strength; consequently the trip to Casa de 
Rosas was still deferred. 

It had been a hot, dry autumn, and the winter 
rains were slow in coming. One sunny day, 
while the fields and foot-hills continued to wear 
their mantles of brown, Julius and Boy Donald 
trudged home from Kindergarten hand in 
hand, singing blithely, 

“ O mamma, how pretty the moon looks to-night, 
’Twas never so cunning before; 

With two little horns so sharp and so bright ; 

I hope they won’t grow any more.” 

“ I’d like to see the little horns grow, 
wouldn’t you, Julie?” cried Donald, interrupt- 
33 


34 


BOY DONALD 


ing himself. “ I wish my mamma would let 
me stay up nights to see ’em.” 

“ I wish the moon would shine day-times, 
that’s what I wish,” returned Julius, who was 
a greater sleepy-head than his little twin. 

“ It did shine one day-time, I saw it mv own 
self,” said Donald eagerly. “ But it didn’t 
shine much; I ’spect ’twas ’most turned off,” 
he added, speaking as if the moon had been an 
electric light. 

Julius struck into the second stanza of the 
song, and Donald caught up with him at the 
end of the first line, 

“ If I were up there with you and my friends, 

We’d have a nice time, you would see. 

We’d sit in the middle, holding on at both ends, 

O what a nice cradle ’twould be! 

******** 

“We’d call on the stars to get out of our way, 
Lest—” 

“ O look, look, Julie,” cried Donald inter- 
rupting himself again, and pointing with his 


DIVIDING WITH JULIUS 


35 


small forefinger, “ Look a-there at my papa’s 
lawn!” 

The sight was well worth seeing. A large 
flock of thirsty blackbirds, in plumage of pur- 
plish jet, had alighted upon the grass, and were 
wetting their bills and feathers in the spray 
from the sprinkling-hose. 

“ And look a-there too, Donny,” exclaimed 
Julius, pointing upward to other blackbirds 
scattered along the rows of telegraph wires, 
and resembling the black notes on a staff of 
music. 

“ Julie, Julie, come and have your face 
washed before luncheon.” 

That was Brenda calling: and Julius who 
had strayed past his father’s gate, unwillingly 
retraced his steps. 

Donald went straight on. He was so near 
home that he could smell the gingerbread bak- 
ing in the kitchen oven. But now he also was 
stopped by a voice calling him. 


36 


BOY DONALD 


“ Boy Donald, Boy Donald, please come over 
and help me.” 

Turning his head, Donald saw Captain Brad- 
street, the neighbor opposite, beckoning from 
his doorway, and ran at once to ask what 
was wanted. He was always ready to run for 
Captain Bradstreet. He liked this genial gen- 
tleman very much. 

“ You’re just in season to do me a favor, 
Boy Donald,” said the captain patting him on 
the shoulder. " I’ve lost my spectacles. Will 
you try to find them for me? ” 

“ Yes indeed I will, Captain Bradstreet,” 
answered Donald politely; though really he 
could not help wishing he had not been called 
quite so soon. Another minute would have 
given him time to beg a square of Hop Kee’s 
nice hot gingerbread. 

“ I need your sharp young eyes, Boysie,” 
continued Captain Bradstreet with a smile. 
“ Paul and Pauline haven’t come home 


DIVIDING WITH IULIUS 


37 


from school to help me ; and how am I to look 
for my spectacles myself, when I haven’t any 
spectacles to look with ? Can you tell me that, 
Boy Donald?” 

Donald shook his head with a twinkle in his 
eye, and asked rather foolishly where the 
glasses had been dropped. 

“ That’s precisely what I want you to find 
out,” laughed the captain. “ Jingo has made 
off with them. And served me right too for 
frolicking with the mischievous monkey ! I’ve 
a notion he may have tucked them under the 
hedge.” 

The spectacles were not under the hedge ; but 
Donald presently discovered them in the grass 
at the foot of an India rubber tree. Setting 
them astride his own little nose he pranced 
back with them to their owner, shouting in 
high glee. 

“ I’ve found ’em Captain Bradstreet, I’ve 
found ’em ! ” 


3 » 


BOY DONALD 


“ Ah, so you have, Boysie ! I’m greatly 
obliged to you,” exclaimed the captain heartily. 
“ And now / want to find something for you! ” 

With that he thrust his hand into his pocket 
and drew forth a silver twenty-five cent piece, 
saying, “ I give you this, Donald, not exactly 
because you did me the favor of finding my 
spectacles, but because you are a dear, obliging 
little boy, and I like you to have it to put in 
your savings bank.” 

“ O Captain Bradstreet, I am so glad ! 
Thank you, thank you ! ” cried Donald, hold- 
ing out his little hand for the new shining 
quarter of a dollar, and then running out of 
the yard with it at a great pace. 

“ I hope I thanked him hard enough ; I 
tried to,” he thought. 

He had got as far as the pavement before he 
remembered that he was a twin. “ Why-ee! ” 
said he to himself, “ Half of this belongs to 
Julie! Julie’s half o’ me! ” 


DIVIDING WITH IULIUS 


39 


The two little chums had joined hands the 
day before and promised to divide “ every 
single, dingle thing ” with each other. And now 
of course Julius must have half of this money. 
Donald turned the silver over in his hand and 
looked at it sharply. 

“ I don’t know how to split it,” said he. “ I 
could chop it right in two with a hatchet, but 
that would spoil it; ’t would look queer. Folks 
don’t do that way; how do they do?” 

Then he recollected that he had seen big 
money changed into little money, such as 
nickels and dimes. Yes, that was the proper 
way. 

Reaching home he ran up to Molly’s room. 
Molly would know what to do ; and she would 
not laugh at him. 

“ O Molly,” said he breathlessly, “ I’ve done 
a favorite for Captain Brad street, and he has 
given me twenty-five cents, just see! ” 

“ A favorite ? ” repeated Molly. And then 


4 ° 


BOY DONALD 


she knew he must mean a favor. “ O yes,” 
said she, “ I see.” 

“ And now,” went on Donald, “ I want to 
make two piles of it ; I mean I want to change 
it into — into halves” 

He said nothing about Julie. Perhaps Molly 
might not ask why he wanted it in halves. She 
did not ask. She looked at her little brother’s 
face, and somehow she knew he was thinking 
of Julius. 

“ I’ll see how much change I have,” said she 
going to her writing-desk and taking the purse 
out of her reticule, “ O, this is pretty good. I 
have two dimes and a nickel; that makes ex- 
actly twenty-five cents.” 

Donald looked at the one nickel, his face 
clouding. 

“ But you can’t split a nickel, can you, 
Molly?” 

“ No, wait a minute, Donny, I have five 
pennies. We won’t take the nickel.” 


DIVIDING WITH IULIUS 


4i 


" What is half of five pennies ? ” asked Don- 
ald anxiously. 

“ Two and a half cents.” 

Donald knitted his brows. 

“ I never saw half a cent,” said he. 

“ I never saw one either,” said Molly. 
“ Papa says we ought to have half-cents, and 
perhaps we may by and by, but we haven’t any 
yet.” 

How wise Molly was ! Little Donald looked 
at her in admiration. He had a great mind to 
tell her all about it. 

“ You see, Molly, I want to divide this 
money all fair and honest, and give half of it 
to—” 

“ To Julius?” asked Molly. 

“Yes. You know he is my twin!” — 
There, it was out now ! — “ But how can I 
divide it fair and honest ? That’s what I v/ant 
to know.” 

“ I’ll tell you how,” replied Molly. “ You 


42 


BOY DONALD 


can take one of the five cents and buy a stick 
of candy, and give Julius half of it.” 

“ O so I can! Won’t that be fine? Would 
you buy pep’mint or cindamon?” 

“ Well, they are both nice, I don’t think 
’twould make a bit of difference. There, Don- 
ald, look at the money. Here is a dime for 
Julius, and here’s a dime for you. And here 
are two cents for Julius and two cents for you. 
And there’s the cent for the candy. You’ll go 
halves on that.” 

“ But I haven’t got any candy yet,” said 
Donald. 

“ No ; but you’re going to get it. Now 
run off and buy it. But before you go don’t 
you want to put your own dime and your own 
two cents in your savings bank, so they won’t 
get lost?” 

Donald thought he did. His face was 
beaming now. He felt very glad to have the 


DIVIDING WITH IULIUS 


43 


matter cleared up so well. Molly was certainly 
a wonderful girl. She knew almost as much 
as mamma. 

“ Hello, Julie,” said he frisking in at Mr. 
Fay’s back yard a few minutes later. “ Where’s 
your jackknife. I’ve got something for 
you.” 

And when Julius in all haste took out his 
jackknife Donald showed him the stick of 
candy wrapped in white tissue paper, and told 
him the grand news. 

“ One dime for you, Julie, two cents for 
you. And chop the candy in two ! ’Cause we 
are twins ! ” 

Never till that moment had Julius suspected 
what a fine thing it was to be a twin! It did 
occur to him to wonder whether he would have 
divided with Donald if a man had given him a 
silver quarter ? But of course he would. Why, 
of course ! He knew he would ; hadn’t he said 


44 


BOY DONALD 


it? Only Donald seemed so very, very glad 
to divide! 

“ I’ve got something for you too, Donny,” 
he cried, in a sudden spasm of generosity. 
" Come and see ’em. You shall have half.” 


CHAPTER IV 


THE WHITE MICE 

“ Why, Julie Fay, you don’t mean you’re 
going to give me half of those ! ” cried Don- 
ald, as his twin led him along to the cage in 
which the pretty white mice were revolving. 

“ Yes, I do, that’s just what I mean Donny. 
Only there’s seven, and I can’t split ’em to 
make it come out even,” replied Julius in some 
perplexity. 

“ Just the same with me,” said Donald, 
“ about that twenty-five cents. ’T wouldn’t 
split fair, you know; and that was why Molly 
told me to buy the candy. Molly will tell us 
what to do about the mice. She knows ’most 
everything.” 


45 


46 


BOY DONALD 


Molly, when appealed to, advised Julius not 
to divide the mice on any account. She thought 
they ought to remain in the cage all together. 

“ You and Donny can both play with them 
and feed them,” she said. “ And Donny will 
know that they belong to him just as much as 
they belong to you.” 

So it was arranged. And it was very 
pleasant to see what comfort the two boys took 
with the tiny white creatures. Julius had 
always loved them; but now, strange to say, 
he loved and enjoyed them twice as well as 
he had done before he shared them with Don- 
ald. 

For weeks the warm, dry weather continued. 

“ Just the right weather for camping out,” 
as Brenda said more than once to Weezy. 
“ But O dear, George is so slow in getting well ! 
Papa says it will be a long time before we can 
go to Casa de Rosas.” 

And Weezy answered affectionately, “ Then 


THE WHITE MICE 


47 


I shall have you so much the longer to myself, 
Miss Twisty Horn. I’m so glad of that ! ” 

“ Twisty Horn ” was her pet name for 
Brenda because Brenda wore her straight black 
hair in short braids doubled up at the ends and 
tied above each ear with a bow of ribbon. 

On the other hand, as Weezy’s bright curly 
locks would not lie smooth Brenda playfully 
called her “ Miss Frizzle Nig.” 

Nobody but the two little friends themselves 
had even so much as heard the words “ Twisty 
Horn ” and “ Frizzle Nig.” O no, these fancy 
names were a precious secret to be guarded 
very carefully from their playmates. 

“ Twisty Horn,” said Weezy, “ if I tell you 
something won’t you ever tell of it just as long 
as you live and breathe ? ” 

“Of course I’ll never tell, Frizzle Nig!” 

“ Well then, maybe I’m going to have a 
playhouse built right in this yard! Mamma 
says it seems as if she should go crazy, I’ve 


48 


BOY DONALD 


got so many playthings, and she wants a place 
to put ’em in.” 

“ And what does your papa say ? ” asked 
Brenda “ O, he says. ‘ Wait a while and see 
how Weezy behaves. If she’s special good per- 
haps I’ll do it.’ He said that yesterday. And 
now you’d better believe I’m being good, O 
so good ! ” 

“ That’s right, Frizzle Nig,” cried Brenda 
clapping her hands. “ Keep on being good ! 
I’d almost rather have you have a playhouse 
than to go to Rosa de Cacas.” 

It was certainly pleasant enough in Silver 
Gate City with dear little Weezy for a compan- 
ion. Day after day the sun rose and set in 
splendor, fine dust floated in the air, the foli- 
age hung gray and wilted. Then came a morn- 
ing with clouds which veiled the mountains 
from view. Everybody looked happy and ex- 
pectant. Mr. Rowe said, 

“ I think we shall soon have rain.” And 


THE WHITE MICE 


49 


Hop Kee made haste to set tubs under the 
water-spouts of the house. 

But in a few hours the welcome clouds rolled 
by and “ the provoking sun ” shone out as 
brightly as ever. The next week these clouds 
gathered again. Molly Rowe and Pauline 
Bradstreet were cheated one day into carrying 
their umbrellas to school, and it cleared off at 
noon and they forgot to bring them home. 

After this most of the people concluded that 
it would be a “ dry season,” and it was not 
worth while to prepare for rain. Among these 
people were the Fays; and this explains why 
the twins’ little family of mice chanced to be 
caught out of doors in a heavy storm. 

For the rain fell at last and when least ex- 
pected. It began one night about midnight in 
a down-pour that rattled upon the dry roofs 
like myriads of pebbles, and soon filled every 
gutter to overflowing. 

Julius awoke next morning in gay spirits. 


5 ° 


BOY DONALD 


“ It’s raining, mamma, it’s raining ! ” he 
shouted, pattering barefooted into his mother’s 
room. “ The rain has been trying to rain all 
the time, and now it is! ” 

After breakfast he and Brenda ran from 
window to window, enjoying the unfamiliar 
prospect of a wet world. Finally they strayed 
into the kitchen and stood looking out upon the 
back yard. Beyond the clothes-reel with its 
dripping dish-towels, they could see the red- 
tipped camphor tree, and under the camphor 
tree the little house which sheltered the twins’ 
lively family of white mice. The wire whir- 
ligig inside the house was empty and at rest. 

“ I guess your mice don’t feel like taking 
exercise to-day, Julie. They know they would 
get wet,” said Brenda, tapping on the steam- 
ing window pane. 

“ Do you suppose they have anything to 
eat ? ” she asked presently. 

“ I don’t know,” returned Julius shaking his 


THE WHITE MICE 


5i 


head. “ Donny and I gave ’em some crumbs 
yest’d’y.” 

Irish Katy, the cook, was in the kitchen on 
her hands and knees, mopping up the water 
that had blown in under the outer door. She 
heard these remarks. 

“ Sure, ye wouldn’t be afther starving the 
droll bit craythers, childers,” she cried good- 
naturedly. “ They’ll bless your swate souls for 
a square male the day, I’m thinking.” 

“ I think so too, Katy. They must be as 
hungry as little bears, and I’m going to feed 
them this minute,” said Brenda, diving into the 
pantry and returning with a plate of bread 
crumbs. 

“ You mustn’t go with me, Julie,” she added, 
“ you’d get sopping wet.” 

“ I don’t care, Brenda, I want to get sop- 
ping wet.” 

“ No, no, Julie, mamma wouldn’t allow it.” 

And much against his will Julius had to re- 


52 


BOY DONALD 


main in doors while his sister clumped across 
the yard in her father’s old boots, with Katy’s 
shawl over her head. 

The rain had beaten into the mice’s house 
and driven the father and mother into the driest 
corner; but the five wee babies lay huddled to- 
gether in a moist heap near the door. Brenda 
opened the door just a little way and touched 
the mice. They did not move. They appeared 
to be dead. 

“ Poor little things. They’re drowned ! I 
hate to tell Julie,” thought Brenda scattering 
the crumbs helter skelter in her haste to get in 
from the pelting rain. 

She could not bear to leave the limp little 
creatures soaking in the water; so, having 
emptied her plate, she rolled them in one end 
of her shawl and skurried back to the kitchen. 

“ What’s the matter of ’em ? Why don’t 
they wake up ? How bad Donny’ll feel ! ” cried 
Julius when he saw the sad sight. 


THE WHITE MICE 


53 


Kind-hearted Katy laid the five little bodies 
across her broad, motherly palm. “ Maybe it’s 
stiff with the cold they are,” she said, with a 
sly wink at Brenda. “ Fetch me that bit box 
in the coal hod, me b’y. We’ll put the mice into 
the oven; and who knows but the heat’ll 
brighten ’em up a bit.” 

Not that she really believed that heat or any- 
thing else would “brighten ’em up;” but she 
wanted to interest Julie and keep him from 
crying. 

“ Let me put ’em in, Katie,” he cried, bring- 
ing the little paper box. 

When he had placed them in it side by side, 
Katy set the box in the warming-oven, leaving 
the door wide open. Every little while Brenda 
and Julius went to look at the little unfortu- 
nates, and always found them in the same posi- 
tions, with eyes closed and ears drooping. 

“ O dear, dear they’re all deaded up, I know 
they’re all deaded up,” cried Julius at last in 


BOY DONALD 


54 

tears. “ I must tell Donny, Brenda. I must 
tell Donny right away.” 

“ How silly, Julie ! Mamma won’t let you 
go to Mrs. Rowe’s in all this rain.” 

“ I wasn’t a going. Can’t I tell Donny on 
the teller-phone, Brenda Fay? ’Cause the mice 
are half Donny’s, you see. Donny is twin to 
me.” 

Julius ran to the telephone, rang the bell four 
times, and called, 

“Hello, who’s this? O, is it Mr. Woe? 
Well, please may I speak to Donny? ” 

“ O Donny,” he went on (as his little chum 
appeared at the telephone), “Is that you, 
Donny? O Donny, I’ve got something dread- 
ful to tell you. Did you hear that? Well, our 
cunning little baby white mice are all drownded ! 
Yes, I knew you’d feel bad! I feel awfully 
too ! Katy is baking ’em in the oven. No, it 
doesn't make ’em any weller. No, Donny! 
Come over when it’s done a-raining. Do you 


THE WHITE MICE 


55 


hear that ? Come over and we’ll have a funy- 
yal! Good bye.” 

Here somebody else on the line wanted to 
use the telephone, and Julius was shut off from 
it rather abruptly. 

Hopping down from his perch on a chair, he 
trotted back to the kitchen for a last sad look 
into the warming-oven. Ah, what was his 
surprise and delight to see the wee mice in the 
box beginning to stir and prick up their little 
pinky ears! 

“ Katy, Katy, my mice are undeaded, my 
mice are undeaded ! ” he screamed. “ O come 
quick ! Come quick ! ” 

The cook dropped her dish-cloth and has- 
tened to look over Julius’s shoulder. 

“ Shure, and it’s the thruth you’re telling ! ” 
she cried. “ Hand me the box-kiver, me b’y ! 
I’ll clap it on ’em this minute, or the little 
craythers ’ll soon be running about me oven ! ” 

When she had put on the cover she pricked 


56 BOY DONALD 

it with a fork as if it had been the top of a 
pie. This gave plenty of air to the imprisoned 
mice, and they continued to revive till at noon 
Julius was able to telephone Boy Donald, 

“ Our little mice aren’t dead at all, Donny. 
We shan’t have any funy-yal. They were just 
making b’lieve! Yes, I’m glad too! They’re 
dancing ’round and squealing lovely. Did you 
hear that? O how it rains! Papa’s brought 
the mice’s house in here where it’s dry, and 
they were so glad. I mean the papa and 
mama mice were so glad to see their babies. 
Good-bye.” 


CHAPTER V 


THE CHINESE LUNCHEON-BOX 

On the Chinese New Year's Day Hop Kee 
presented every member of the Rowe family 
with some gift. To Molly he gave a sandal- 
wood fan; to Kirke an ivory cup and ball; to 
little Miss Weezy, an oddly dressed doll, and 
to Boy Donald a pair of slippers with a great, 
staring black eye embroidered on each toe. 
For, as you may know, they have in China a 
peculiar custom of attaching eyes to various 
things; even painting them upon the bows of 
their boats, in the belief that these eyes will 
help the boats to find their way across the 
water ! 

Donald of course was too young to have 
heard of this superstition. As he thrust his 
feet into the slippers he asked innocently, 

57 


58 


BOY DONALD 


“ What makes my shoes have eyes to ’em . ” 
Hop Kee looked very wise. “No have eyes, 
no can see,” he said, wagging his head till his 
long queue vibrated like the pendulum of a 
clock. “No can see, no can sahvey (know). 
No can sahvey, how can walkee ? ” 

“ I don’ know what you mean, but I think 
they walk very nice,” answered puzzled little 
Donald, capering about the kitchen in the new 
slippers. “ Thank you, Hop Kee, ever and 
ever so much.” 

And he pranced out through the screened 
porch to show Julius his present, which then 
and there he would have divided with him, if 
a slipper apiece would have been of the least 
use, either to his twin or to himself. 

Hop Kee’s gift to Mrs. Rowe was a tall 
porcelain luncheon-box. From the outside this 
box resembled a highly-decorated cracker jar; 
but it was really not a single dish. There were 
four separate round trays placed one above 


THE CHINESE LUNCHEON-BOX 


59 


another with the cover resting upon the upper 
one. 

Mrs. Rowe kept this luncheon-box on the 
dining-room sideboard ; and the four deep trays 
were filled with different kinds of bonbons to 
be served at table after the dessert. 

As might have been expected, this peculiar 
Chinese contrivance was very attractive to Boy 
Donald ; all the more so because on account of 
its being easily broken he had been forbidden 
to touch it. 

“ I’ll show you the luncheon-box as often as 
you wish, darling,” his mother would say, lift- 
ing out the trays, one after another by their 
glittering brass bails; “but I dare not let you 
touch it. Can I trust my little boy not to 
meddle ? ” And Boy Donald always answered 
very earnestly that she could. 

While the Chinese box was yet a novelty, 
Molly and Kirke were invited one day to a 
school picnic. Mrs. Rowe herself put up their 


6o 


BOY DONALD 


luncheon; and Donald stood at her elbow by 
the dining-room table, looking on with great 
interest. After nearly filling the basket with 
chicken and nut-and-olive sandwiches and 
various kinds of cake, she tucked in at the top 
a paper bag of bonbons from the Chinese box. 
There were chocolate creams from the lowest 
tray, sugared almonds from the next, and 
peppermint drops from the third. She did not 
take anything from the fourth tray, because 
that contained nothing but three marshmal- 
lows. One of these she dropped into Donald’s 
mouth, saying playfully. 

“ That is for mamma’s good little boy.” 
As she was replacing the trays and cover, Molly 
and Kirke rushed in for their basket. 

“ Good-bye, mamma, Paul and Pauline have 
called for us, we must hurry,” said Molly, giv- 
ing her mother a hasty kiss and running out 
again. 

Kirke followed Molly; and Shot, the white 


THE CHINESE LUNCHEON-BOX 


61 


terrier, followed Kirke, but was sent back to 
stay with Weezy, who was swinging in the 
hammock on the porch. 

“ Don’t forget to take your jacket, dear,” 
called Mrs. Rowe, hurrying after Molly as far 
as the front door. “ O mamma, need I take 
it? I’m sure I shall roast,” groaned Molly, 
already far down the walk, arm-in-arm with 
Pauline. 

“ Yes, dear, you’d better take it. ’Twill 
grow colder toward night.” 

“ But I’m so warm, mamma ! This shirt 
waist is as thick as ” — 

She was interrupted by a hoarse voice, cry- 
ing, 

“ Molly, Molly, mind your mother ! ” It 
was the voice of Chatterbox, the parrot, talking 
in his cage on the porch. Molly laughed and 
ran back for her jacket; and little Miss Weezy, 
swinging in the hammock, laughed too, though 
the moment before she had been on the verge 


6a 


BOY DONALD 


of tears because she could not go to the older 
children’s picnic. 

“ Chatty is so droll to-day, mamma,” she 
exclaimed. “ Don’t you think he deserves a 
lump of sugar ? ” 

“ Or something he likes better than sugar, 
mamma,” remarked Molly, as she flew past to 
overtake Pauline. “ I think he deserves a bon- 
bon.” 

“ I believe I’ll treat the old gossip to a marsh- 
mallow, Weezy,” said her mother playfully. 
“ There are just two of them left, and Chatter- 
box shall have one, and my little daughter the 
other.” 

But contrary to her usual custom Mrs. Rowe 
to-day did not keep her word, and you shall 
see why. 

As she was going back to the dining-room 
she met Donald scampering across the hall with 
something squeezed up in his hand, and asked, 


THE CHINESE LUNCHEON-BOX 63 

“ What have you there, Boysie dear ? ” In- 
stead of replying the little fellow kept on with 
downcast eyes as if he had not heard her. 

“ He is absorbed in one of his many delight- 
ful projects, I suppose,” thought Mrs. Rowe, 
entering the dining-room with a smile. “ The 
days are hardly long enough for my busy little 
son.” 

Crossing the floor to the sideboard she lifted 
the cover of the Chinese luncheon-box to take 
out the marshmallows left in the upper tray 
less than ten minutes before. To her great 
astonishment and chagrin the tray was empty ! 

Hop Kee had gone to market, the older chil- 
dren had left the dining-room before she did. 
Who but Boy Donald could have pilfered the 
sweets ? 

“ My little boy must have disobeyed me,” 
mused Mrs. Rowe, the smile banished from her 
face. “ When he ran by me without speaking 


6 4 


BOY DONALD 


I dare say he had the mallows in his hand. O, 

I cannot let this pass, indeed I cannot. I must 
have a serious talk with the child.” 

After a little search she discovered Boy 
Donald in his tiny garden plot behind the house, 
hoeing with all his might. He saw her coming 
and cried out gaily, 

“ I’ve found some nice sweet-pea seeds, 
mamma, I’m going to plant ’em here in my 
bed.” 

“ Are you, Donny ? Where did you find the 
seeds?” she asked, not caring in the least to 
know. She was trying to decide what it would 
be best to say to the little culprit. 

“ Found ’em in papa’s waste-basket,” an- 
swered Donald, throwing down his hoe and 
pulling from his pocket a little box of patent 
pills sent his father by some advertising quack. 

“ Papa doesn’t want ’em ; papa said I might 
have ’em if I wouldn’t eat ’em.” 


1 



She discovered Boy Donald in iiis tiny garden Page 04 








THE CHINESE LUNCHEON-BOX 65 

At any other time Mrs. Rowe would have 
been amused at the idea of her little son’s plant- 
ing pills for sweet peas. But to-day she was 
too troubled to give it a thought. 

“ Don’t you want me to have the seeds, 
mamma? ” added Donald, observing the cloud 
on her brow, “ what makes you look so 
sorry? ” 

Mrs. Rowe clasped the child’s hand in her 
own, and led him to a rustic seat under the 
magnolia before she answered. 

“ Mamma feels sorry, Donny, because she is 
afraid her dear little boy has disobeyed her.” 

“ When’d I disobey you, mamma ? I can’t 
’member,” returned Donald, looking up quickly, 
then dropping his eyes beneath his mother’s re- 
proachful gaze. 

“ Think a moment, my little son. Haven’t 
you been to mamma’s luncheon-box this morn- 


66 


BOY DONALD 


“ No, mamma, course not ! ” 

“ Think again, Donny. Haven’t you taken 
those marshmallows that you saw in it a little 
while ago ? ” 

“ No, mamma, I haven’t, truly.” 

“ Think harder, Donny.” 

Donald hung his head and winked very fast. 

“ I haven’t taken only but just the one you 
gave me, mamma. I’ve told you two times.” 

His mother drew him gently into her lap. 
“ My darling, mamma will not punish you this 
time for disobeying if you’ll be a brave, honest 
little boy and tell her the truth. Didn’t you 
open mamma’s box after mamma went out of 
the dining-room ? Didn’t you, Donny ? ” 

“ No, mamma, I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t,” 
sobbed the little boy hiding his face in her neck. 

“ Are you very, very sure, Donny ? ” per- 
sisted his mother, puzzled and most sorely 
grieved. “ Mamma would — O so much rather ! 
— know that you had gone to her box without 


THE CHINESE LUNCHEON-BOX 67 

leave than that you had told her a wrong 
story ! ” 

Donald sobbed harder than ever. “ I’ll tell 
you I took the mallowses if you want me to, 
mamma,” he wailed. “ But I didn’t take ’em 
all the samey ! ” 

Here he was interrupted by the sound of a 
heavy fall, immediately followed by a succes- 
sion of piercing shrieks. 


CHAPTER VI 


weezy's mishap 

Running in the direction from which the 
shrieks proceeded, Mrs. Rowe and Boy Donald 
found little Miss Weezy extended on the floor 
of the front porch in an agony of pain and 
fright. While standing in the hammock at 
play with Chatterbox, whose cage hung above 
it, she somehow had lost her balance and fallen 
headlong. 

“ My ankle, mamma ! O, O, I’ve broken 
my ankle,” she screamed, as her mother anx- 
iously bent over her. 

“ I hope not, sweet one. I hope it’s not 
nearly so bad as that,” responded her mother, 
quickly removing the child’s slipper. 

“ O, mamma, don’t touch my stocking, O, 
you hurt so ! ” 


68 


WEEZY’S MISHAP 


69 


“ I’ll be as gentle as I can, my love.” 

“ But my foot is broken, mamma, yes it is. 
It’ll roll right out if you take the stocking off ! ” 

“ No, no, my nervous little girl, mamma 
knows better than that.” 

“ O, mamma, I’m sure it will ! ” 

“ Don’t grip my hands so, darling. Be 
brave, and let me bathe the hurt place with 
liniment.” 

“ Mamma, your face is all green and keeps 
a- whirling and a ” — 

“ Lie down again, Weezy,” cried her mother, 
seeing that the child was in danger of fainting. 

She brought her a glass of water and sum- 
moned Mr. Rowe from the library. 

“ I think I’ll telephone Dr. Gilbraith,” he 
said, after a hasty glance at Weezy’s ankle, al- 
ready swelled and discolored. 

The little sufferer was carried upstairs and 
laid upon her pretty white bed, and soon after 
the doctor appeared. He pronounced Weezy’s 


7 o 


BOY DONALD 


injury a serious sprain, and said she must wear 
a plaster cast to hold the ligaments firmly in the 
right position. Then, much to the little girl’s 
disapproval, he proceeded to swathe the throb- 
bing ankle in a long bandage, and afterwards 
to cover the bandage with a coating of wet 
plaster. 

From the opposite side of the bed Donald 
watched the surgeon’s movements with keen 
interest. Once indeed he offered to help him, 
crying out eagerly, 

“ I can do that my own self, Doctor Gil- 
braith! I’ve made clay marbles at the Kitty- 
garter lots of times ! ” 

The doctor laughed, but Mrs. Rowe silenced 
the boy with a look. A sad look it was, for not 
even her anxiety over Weezy could dispel from 
the mother’s mind the memory of her little son’s 
persistent falsehood. 

While Dr. Gilbraith remained in the room 
little Miss Weezy bore her pain so patiently 


WEEZY’S MISHAP 


7 


that he was very much pleased with her, and 
called her “ a brave little lady.” But after the 
doctor went away and the plaster cast began 
to dry and harden, she grew very irritable. 

“ O papa, it hurts me. Please, please take it 
off,” she cried. “ I can’t bear it. It feels just 
as if my foot was stuck into a great pitcher.” 

Her father shook his head with a pitying 
smile. 

“ It wouldn’t do to take off the cast, my 
darling,” he answered. “ You must wear it till 
your poor little foot is well, or you’ll be hurting 
the poor little foot again.” 

“ Don’t cry little sister,” chimed in Donald, 
snuggling down beside her in the bed. “ If you 
won’t cry another drop you shall have one of 
the white mice what Julie gave me.” 

“ Which one, Donny ? ” 

“ The littlest. It’s so big, Weezy.” Donald 
measured a space on his forefinger. “ It’s so 
big, ’thout counting the tail ! ” 


72 


BOY DONALD 


“ Then it must be about the size of a white 
bean,” said Mr. Rowe, patting Donald’s cheek. 

“ Well, Louise, my daughter,” he added, “ if 
you are good and patient during these weeks 
when you must be lame, then there’s something 
else you shall have.” 

“ O what, papa ? ” 

“ Something that you’ve been wanting for a 
long time, Louise.” 

“ O, papa, not the playhouse? You don’t 
really mean the playhouse ? ” 

“ Indeed I do, my dear. I mean the play- 
house that you’ve been coveting. I’ll hire Mr. 
Dunn to build it for you as soon as you are 
able to enjoy it.” 

“ O, you blessed papa ! ” 

“ Provided you are a sweet little girl until 
that time. You must earn your house, you 
know, Louise. I can’t give it to an unreason- 
able little scold.” 

“ I will be patient, papa, I truly will,” ex- 


WEEZY’S MISHAP 


73 


claimed Weezy, suppressing a groan, for her 
ankle pained her very much. 

“ That’s my own noble little daughter,” said 
Mr. Rowe, giving her a kiss as he left her bed- 
side and returned to his library. 

An hour later Mrs. Rowe carried him the 
welcome tidings that Weezy had fallen into a 
doze. 

“ And now, Edward, I must talk with you 
in regard to Donald,” she said gravely, “ I feel 
very unhappy about him.” 

“ Unhappy about Boysie? Why so? ” asked 
Mr. Rowe, laying down his pen. 

“ O, Edward, I have every reason to believe 
that, the child has told me an out-and-out false- 
hood.” 

“ You surprise me, Mary ! And can’t you 
make him confess it ? ” 

“ No, that’s the worst of it, Edward. The 
little rogue persists in the deception, and when 
I plead with him to tell the exact truth he acts 


74 


BOY DONALD 


so injured and guileless that I’m almost 
ashamed of myself for doubting him.” 

“ Well, well, it’s something new for Boysie 
to take to lying,” said Mr. Rowe, drumming 
absently upon his desk. “ I can’t help hoping 
you may have misjudged the little fellow.” 

“ I fear not, Edward ; but I want your opin- 
ion. The facts are these ” — 

“ Why, my love, you’re all of a tremble. 
Don’t try to talk till you are seated,” inter- 
rupted her husband, handing a chair. 

“ I can’t help being excited, Edward, over 
Donald’s conduct this morning,” said Mrs. 
Rowe accepting the chair with a forced smile. 
“ You know he has been positively forbidden 
to touch my Chinese box? Well, after the 
other children had gone out of the dining-room, 
I left him playing there by himself ; and when 
I went back not ten minutes afterwards he had 
opened that box.” 


“ What proof have you, my dear ? ” 


WEEZY’S MISHAP 


75 


“ The strongest of proofs Edward. I had left 
a couple of marshmallows in the upper tray, 
and when I looked for them they were gone. 
Who but Donny could have taken them ? ” 

“ Who could have taken them ? ” echoed Mr. 
Rowe, springing to his feet with a glad laugh. 
“ I could have taken them, Mary ! I could have 
taken them ! And I did it ! The thief was not 
Donny, but Donny’s father ! ” 

“You, Edward? I never once suspected 
you. I know you detest sweetmeats ! ” 

“ And so I do. But I’d been dosing myself 
this morning with quinine. I took those mal- 
lows to offset the bitter taste in my mouth. 
Little did I foresee the trouble I was bringing 
upon you and our poor Boysie ! ” 

“ The dear little martyr ! I’m going this 
minute to beg his pardon for having doubted 
him,” exclaimed Mrs. Rowe with happy tears 
in her eyes. 

“ Do, Mary ! And tell him from me that 


7 6 BOY DONALD 

the next time I’m down town I’ll buy him a 
pound of the choicest mallows to be obtained 
in the city.” 

Donald had returned to his wee garden plot 
to finish the task interrupted by Weezy’s acci- 
dent, and his mother surprised him in the act 
of planting the very last of the pills. His 
hands and frock and even his face were brown 
with earth ; but all soiled as he was, Mrs. Rowe 
strained him close to her bosom, crying: 

“ Mamma was mistaken, Donny ! Mamma’s 
dear little boy did not disobey her. Will 
Donny forgive mamma for not believing what 
he said? ” 

This unexpected outburst of emotion be- 
wildered Donald for a moment. Then he un- 
derstood, and shouted joyously, “ I didn’t 
meddle with your luncheon-box, did I, 
mamma? O, I’m so glad I didn’t meddle! ” 


CHAPTER VII 


A REWARD OF MERIT 

The next few weeks were very trying to our 
dear little Weezy. At times her sprained ankle 
pained her sadly ; at other times the plaster cast 
drove her almost wild. 

“ How would you like it, Donny, if the doc- 
tor had put your foot in a great white pitcher 
thing, same as he has mine?” she asked peev- 
ishly one morning as she stumped into the 
sitting-room leaning on a pair of new crutches. 
“ You don’t know how horrid it is; you never 
had a lame ankle.” 

“ Yes, I had, Weezy,” responded Donald, 
spinning a blue marble across the carpet. 

“ Why, Donny Rowe, what are you talking 
77 


7 8 BOY DONALD 

about? You never had a lame ankle in all 
your life.” 

“ Yes, I had,” insisted Donald. 

“ When did you ever, ever have a lame 
ankle? ” 

“ O, one time. ’Twasn’t the ankle of my leg, 
though, ’twas the ankle of my arm. See that 
black place ? ” 

And Donald proudly held up to view a slight 
bruise on his left wrist. 

Weezy laughed dismally. 

“ O, yes, I remember, you did hurt your wrist 
a little speck the other day. But that wasn’t 
anything, Donny. You went to the beach all 
the same. I saw you running in the sand with 
mamma.” 

“ Hoh, mamma didn’t run,” said Donald in 
a scornful tone. “ Big folks don’t run. The 
bigger they get the faster they can’t run.” 

“ How funny you do talk, Donny,” ex- 
claimed Weezy, pausing by the sofa with an in- 


A REWARD OF MERIT 


79 


diligent smile. “ Here, darling, take my 
crutches, won’t you, please ? ” 

And as Donald placed them against the wall 
she sat down sidewise upon the sofa, in order 
to give plenty of room for the clumsy cast 
which protected her lame ankle. 

“ Tell me about the kindergarten, Donny,” 
she went on, taking out some work that she 
had brought, pinned up in her apron, and be- 
ginning to sew in her favorite way, without a 
thimble. 

“ What’s that you’re doing, Weezy?” 

“ I’m hemming a dish-cloth. It’s for my new 
playhouse. Now tell me what you learned at 
the kindergarten yesterday.” 

“ I can’t ’member.” 

“ O, yes, you can. What did the teacher talk 
about?” 

“ O, ’bout animals and fings.” 

“ Animals ? What are animals ? ” 

Weezy delighted in playing school-mistress 


8o 


BOY DONALD 


to her little brother, whom she considered a 
vast deal younger and more ignorant than her- 
self. 

“ O, animals are fings what breave and eat. 
Cows is animals. You can’t guess what cows 
eat, Weezy.” 

“Grass, Donny?” 

“ Suffin’. ’sides grass.” 

“ Barley straw ? ” 

“ Suffin’ ’sides barley straw.” 

Weezy wrinkled her brows. 

“ O, now I know, Donny, it’s turnips ! 
Grandpa’s cow back east used to eat turnips.” 

“ Naw ! Teacher didn’t say turnips ! ” 

“ But grandpa’s cow did eat turnips. I saw 
her, Donny.” 

“ Then I s’pect grandpa’s cow was an old- 
fashioned cow,” retorted the boy. “ Cows 
don’t eat turnips now, they eat apple-parings. 
Miss Files said apple-parings.” 

“ Apple-parings it is then, Donny,” laughed 


A REWARD OF MERIT 


81 


Kirke, who had sauntered into the room in time 
to overhear the children’s conversation. 
“ Weezy, I just met Brenda Fay wearing the 
silver medal. She leads her class this month.” 

“ O, I know it,” snapped Weezy with a jeal- 
ous pang. “ She comes here and talks about it 
every day. Brenda is always and forever lead- 
ing her class. It fairly makes me sick.” 

I 

Kirke whistled and limped across the floor 
on his sister’s crutches. “ You might have 
led the class yourself, Weezy, I suppose, if you 
hadn’t had to stay out of school,” he said, limp- 
ing back again. 

“ Yes, I’m just about sure I should ! O, it’s 
so provoking ! ” 

“ Provoking, Weezybus ? Provoking is no 
name for it, I declare.” 

“ And then, Kirke, to have papa keep say- 
ing, ‘ Be patient ’ and mamma keep saying, 

‘ Be patient.’ How can I be patient when my 
foot aches so, and I have to let Brenda get the 


82 


BOY DONALD 


medal away from me?” cried Weezy, wiping 
her eyes on the half-hemmed dish-cloth. 

“ And the worst of it is,” she went on, “ if I 
don’t be patient then papa won’t give me the 
pretty new playhouse. O, dear, dear, and I 
can’t be patient ! I can’t be, so there ! ” 

“ I’ll be it for you, Weezy ! Don’t cry, I’ll 
be it,” exclaimed Donald, running and throw- 
ing his arms around his sister’s neck. “ Tell 
me how, and I’ll be it” 

“ O, you dear, dear mite of a goosie,” 
ejaculated Weezy, kissing the sympathetic little 
fellow again and again. “ You can’t be it, I’m 
the one that has to be it. I will be it too, Kirke, 
see if I’m not,” she added with renewed cour- 
age. “ I’ll be patient if I possibly can. Brenda 
isn’t to blame for getting the medal.” 

Weezy kept her promise. Henceforth she 
tried so hard to be amiable and to make the 
best of her misfortune that her parents were 
very much gratified. 


A REWARD OF MERIT 


83 


“ She is earning her playhouse,” said Mr. 
Rowe ; and he went so far as to draw the plans 
for the little building a good while before Dr. 
Gilbraith thought it prudent to take the plaster 
cast off Weezy’s ankle. 

To the child’s great satisfaction she was con- 
sulted in regard to these plans; and although 
some of her suggestions were too wild to be 
adopted, others were not ; and in either case she 
felt a keen pleasure in talking them over. The 
thought of this miniature cottage that was to 
be hers, sustained Weezy through many tedi- 
ous hours, and was also the source of much 
interest to her intimate friends. 

Paul Bradstreet and Kirke busied themselves 
at odd moments in making a dwarf extension 
table for the dining-room; Molly and Pauline 
ruffled some muslin curtains for the front win- 
dows; and Brenda embroidered some rather 
wilted-looking pansies on a linen mat for the 
bedroom bureau. 


8 4 


BOY DONALD 


Even the little boys entered into the spirit of 
the thing and modeled from kindergarten clay 
a couple of ornaments for Weezy’s parlor man- 
tel. Donald’s was a little vase, and Julius’s a 
little boot to hold matches. To be sure neither 
article could stand firmly; but as Weezy re- 
marked to Brenda, they would “ give the room 
quite an air.” 

Many names were proposed for the new 
house, but it was finally decided to call it 
“ Weezy Villa.” 

The day that Weezy Villa was actually fin- 
ished, and the keys were given to its young 
owner, there was not a happier girl in all the 
length and breadth of the land than little Miss 
Weezy Rowe. She hobbled out upon the porch 
to meet her papa, and threw herself into his 
arms, exclaiming. 

“ O, you dear, darling papa, you’re the best 
man in the whole world ! If anybody ’d give me 


A REWARD OF MERIT 85 

a hundred other papas I wouldn’t take ’em, I’d 
rather have just you! ” 

“ I don’t blame you, Weezy. What could 
you possibly do with one hundred and one 
papas? ” jested Kirke at her elbow. 

But Mr. Rowe did not heed the interruption. 
He merely smoothed Weezy’s fluffy hair and 
answered with a smile, “ Thank you, daughter- 
kin ! And for my part I would rather have my 
own frisky little girly-girl than one hundred 
other little maids of just her size.” 

“ O, papa, s’posing you had a hundred little 
boys just like me, wouldn’t that be nice?” 
struck in Boy Donald, crowding between 
Weezy and his father to secure a share of at- 
tention. 

Mr. Rowe laughed outright. 

“ I don’t know about that Boysie,” he said, 
patting his little Highness on the shoulder, 
“ How could Hop Kee ever bake enough bread 


86 


BOY DONALD 


for such an army of children? Don’t you 
think he’d find it hard work to fill a hundred 
hungry little mouths? ” 

“ O, Hop Kee wouldn’t have to fill ’em ! ” 
cried Donald quickly, “ we’d fill our mouths 
ourselves ! We’d rather ! ” 

“ I don’t doubt that in the least, my son,” 
trying to look serious, “ Little boys always 
know how to eat.” 

“ Yes, Don, you’d all know how to eat,” re- 
marked Kirke grinning. “ Among you you’d 
eat, say twenty loaves of bread in a day.” 

“ No, indeedy, we wouldn’t, Kirke. We’d 
all have weeny bits of mouths, so big, see.” 

And Donald puckered his lips into a tiny 
rosette of scarlet. 

“ But weeny mouths can swallow a good deal 
when they work by the dozen. You and your 
hundred brothers would eat twenty loaves of 
bread a day fast enough.” 

“ Naw, we wouldn’t, Kirke.” Donald shook 


A REWARD OF MERIT 


87 


his head very hard. “ Naw, we wouldn’t, 
’cause we wouldn’t like bread, we’d like cake 
bester.” 

“ O, that’s it, is it, Don?” returned Kirke 
lightly. “ Well, go get your twin and Brenda 
too; and I’ll run over for Paul and Pauline, 
and we’ll all pay a visit to Weezy’s new house.” 

“ No, no, don’t ask anybody yet,” cried little 
Miss Weezy, with the anxious air of a young 
housekeeper. “ I haven’t got things in order.” 

Kirke whistled and winked at Molly. “ Wait 
till the curtains are up and the furniture comes 
and my foot gets well. Then I’m going to 
have a regular reception. You needn’t laugh, 
Kirke, mamma says I may.” 

“ O, well,” said Kirke, “ that’ll be fine.” 
“ Goody, goody ! ” cried Boy Donald, giving 
Weezy a rousing kiss. “ And have some Char- 
lotte Roost. That’ll be just elegant!” 


CHAPTER VIII 


WEEZY VILLA 

Two days after this, Weezy ran out to the 
gate all smiles, to meet Brenda. 

“ O, Twisty Horn,” said she, “ the doctor 
has taken off that old cast. My ankle is as well 
as yours is ! ” 

“ O, Frizzle Nig, I’m so glad ! ” 

“ Of course you are, Twisty Horn. Now 
I’ll have my party next week in my owny dony 
house! Let’s go into my house now and talk 
it over.” 

“ We will, and I can be trimming my doll’s 
hat, Frizzle Nig.” 

The girls were hardly seated in Weezy’s 
snug parlor before Boy Donald rushed in, 
dressed in a stylish new suit, which had short 
88 


" WEEZY VILLA ” 89 

trousers, finished at the knees with tiny black 
rosettes. 

“ S’pose I want neckties on my legs, Weezy 
Woe? ” scolded he, frowning down upon those 
rosettes. “ ’Course I don’t ! Boys don’t wear 
neckties on their legs ! ” 

The little girls exchanged glances and began 
to laugh in what Donald considered a most un- 
feeling manner. “ Those aren’t neckties, you 
funny boy,” said Weezy. “ They’re only pieces 
of braid puckered up in a kind of a wheel. I 
think they’re ever so pretty.” 

“ I don’t ! . I don’t want puckers on my 
legs ! ” retorted Donald with high disdain. 
“ Julie doesn’t have puckers on his legs.” 

“ Because Julie hasn’t got a nice new suit,” 
said Brenda, wishing secretly that Donald 
would go away. She did not like to have him 
“ forever tagging.” 

“ I should think you’d be ashamed, Donny 
Rowe,” she went on, sticking a hen’s feather 


9 ° 


BOY DONALD 


into her doll’s hat as she spoke, and holding the 
doll at arm’s length to note the effect. “ I 
should think you’d be ashamed to be so cross. 
I should, honestly, when your papa has been 
’way down town to buy those pretty clothes for 
you.” 

“ Take care, Twisty Horn,” whispered 
Weezy. “ Mamma says we must be patient 
with Donny to-day because he isn’t very well.” 

“ I’m not cross, Brenda,” fumed Donald, 
speaking for himself. “ I’m not cross one bit.” 

“ O, no, you aren’t cross, Donny, of course 
not,” said teasing Brenda, “ you’re too sweet 
to live!” 

To be made fun of like this was more than 
Donald in his present irritable state could en- 
dure with meekness, and he screamed out, 

“ You’re a naughty girl, Brenda, and I don’t 
like you ! ” 

Then seizing the doll’s hat, he threw it, 


WEEZY VILLA 


9i 


feather and all upon the floor and stamped upon 
it with all his little might. 

“ O dear, dear, Donny, you’ve got a tan- 
trum!” exclaimed Weezy, springing to rescue 
the hat. “ Don’t you remember you told 
mamma you wouldn’t ever have any more tan- 
trums ; and now just look at you ! ” 

“ I don’t care ! ’Twas Brenda’s fault,” 
bawled Donald, rushing out of the little parlor 
in a tempest of sobs. “ Brenda went and said 
I was sweet, and she knew ’twasn’t any such 
a thing ! She told a wrong story. She ought 
to be punished for it ; yes, she ought ! ” 

“ How kind of you to say so, Crosspatch,” 
called Brenda through the window, with a pro- 
voking laugh. “ Thank you ever so much.” 

Weezy did not join in the laugh, as her friend 
had expected, but said indignantly. 

“ I think you’re mean to Donald to-day, 
Brenda! Making him angry, and then point- 


92 


BOY DONALD 


ing your finger at him ! I don’t blame him for 
answering you back ” — 

“Don’t you indeed, Miss Rowe?” cried 
Brenda, gathering her dolls into her apron with 
unseemly haste. “ Maybe you think it’s polite 
to talk this way to people that you ask to come 
to see you in your new house ! But I don’t think 
so, and I’m going right home ! ” 

“ O, don’t go, Twisty Horn, don’t go! ” en- 
treated Weezy, horrified at the thought of not 
being hospitable. “ I didn’t mean to be rude 
in my own house, truly I didn’t ! ” 

“ You said I was real mean to Donny, that 
was what you said, Weezy.” 

“ ’Cause he’s sick and babyish, Twisty Horn. 
That was what made me say it. And I forgot 
you’d come a-visiting, I forgot all about that, 
or I wouldn’t have said it.” 

“ O, then I’ll stay a while longer, Frizzle 
Nig,” said Brenda, graciously resuming her 
chair. 


WEEZY VILLA 


93 


And the little maids began in earnest to dis- 
cuss the plans for Weezy’s house-party. Donald 
had gone, and there was no one else to interrupt. 

“ Of course I can’t have a sitting-down tea, 
Twisty Horn, because the dining-table is so 
little, and my dining-room is so little too. 
Mamma thinks I’d better call my party a recep- 
tion — that’s the proper word, — and write notes 
to all the people I want to invite. Then in the 
middle of the dining-table we’ll set out a great 
bowl of f rappee.” 

“ What’s that, Frizzle Nig? ” 

“Frappee? Why, don’t you know, Twisty 
Horn ? It’s fruit punch with chopped ice in it. 
We’ll have cakes and fancy crackers too, and 
treat everybody that comes ” — 

“ How many shall you ask, Frizzle Nig? ” 

“ O, I haven’t counted. The Bradstreets 
and your family, — and the Hobbses, — and Mrs. 
Carillo and Manuel, — and ever and ever so 
many more.” 


94 


BOY DONALD 


“ They can’t all get into your house at once, 
Frizzle Nig?” 

“ No, of course not. Part of ’em can sit on 
the porch, and then we’ll have seats outside ” — - 
“ O, Frizzle Nig, won’t it be grand? Al- 
most like Fourth of July ! ” 

“Yes; and I’ve thought of something else, 
Twisty Horn. Let’s have Molly’s parrot! 
Kirke can hang the cage on the porch.” 

“ A bright idea, Frizzle Nig. And why not 
have Captain Bradstreet’s monkey ? ” 

“ The very thing, Twisty Horn! And there 
are the little boy’s white mice. Kirke can bring 
their house over and set it in my yard — ” 

“ Yes, they will entertain the people very 
much,” said Brenda. 

“ One of my Minorca hens has hatched out 
nine chickens. I wish I could have ’em all at 
my party,” mused Weezy; and was rather 
crushed when Brenda observed that they would 
be much too noisy for polite society. 


WEEZY villa: 


95 


By this time it was getting late, and Brenda 
said she really must go. So after fastening the 
windows of her little cottage, Weezy went out 
at the front door with her young visitor, and 
locked the door behind them. 

“ Here is something for Donald,” said 
Brenda, drawing a great lemon-drop from her 
pocket as she and Weezy walked on. “ I’m 
sorry I teased him; but it is such fun to see 
him flare up ! ” 

When the bit of confectionery was given to 
Donald he received it with some hesitation, and 
seemed for the rest of the day rather pensive. 
Evidently his conscience was troubling him. 
That evening, as his mother passed through the 
hall after having heard him say his prayers, 
these touching words fell upon her ears, — the 
little boy’s fervent petition, broken by sobs. 

“ And dear Lord, please, please, don’t let me 
have any more tantrums. Amen.” 


CHAPTER IX 


THE HOUSE PARTY 

With some assistance from Molly, little 
Miss Weezy prepared twenty invitations to her 
coming party. These were written on pale blue 
paper which had “ Weezy Villa ” neatly 
printed on the first page of each tiny sheet. 
The printing had been done by Kirke. The 
invitations read as follows : 

“ Miss Louise Rowe requests the pleasure 
of your company to-morrow afternoon from 
three to five o’clock.” 

Manuel Carillo had been requested to deliver 
the notes on the day before the reception; and 

that morning Weezy was in the library hard 
96 


THE HOUSE PARTY 


97 


at work upon them, when Boy Donald peeped 
in to say, 

“ Manwell’s come for your letters, Weezy. 
Have you got ’em wroten ? ” 

“ I’m writing the last one,” she replied, look- 
ing up from the desk, her face clouded by anx- 
iety and by a spatter of ink “ This is Captain 
Bradstreet’s, and I want it to look best of all, 
because you know he gave me my Minorcas.” 

“ I guess Manwell’s in a hurry,” returned 
Boy Donald, strolling to the window and be- 
ginning to drum on the pane. 

“ Well, I’m writing as fast as I can, Donny. 
Please stop that noise. It makes me peevish.” 
(Weezy meant nervous.) 

Donald stood quiet for about half a minute, 
then exclaimed, 

“ Look Weezy, there are one, two, free boys 
going up the street.” 

“ Who are they? ” asked Weezy, stopping to 
dip her pen into the inkstand. 


9 8 


BOY DONALD 


“ O, / don’t know. There’s a long-legged 
■boy and a short-legged boy and a middle-legged 
boy.” 

“ Well, let ’em go, I don’t want to look at 
’em, Donny.” 

And Weezy bent over her paper again, trac- 
ing her letters carefully, and accompanying 
each stroke of the pen with a funny little mo- 
tion of her lips. 

Donald came back from the window and 
paused at her elbow. 

“Aren’t you 3 most ready, Weezy?” 

“ Almost. All but directing the envelope.” 

A pause. 

“ Aren’t you ready now, Weezy? ” 

“ No, no, I’m making a capital C.” 

“ See what, Weezy? ” 

“AC for Captain, Donny Rowe,” answered 
she sharply. “ And now you’ve made me blot 
it!” 


THE HOUSE PARTY 


99 


“Why, Weezy Woe, I didn’t do a thing! 
I was right here ever so far off. I never 
touched you ! ” 

“ No, but you looked at me and made my 
hand shake.” 

“ Can’t folks look at folks ? ” asked Donald, 
much injured. “ I didn’t know you were so 
easy to shake ! ” 

Weezy laughed, and threw down her pen, 
exclaiming, 

“ Never mind, little brother, I know you 
didn’t mean to bother me. But the envelope 
isn’t fit to send. I must write another,” she 
added searching for a fresh one. “ Donny, 
you’d better carry out all the rest of the notes 
to Manuel, I’ll take Captain Bradstreet’s over 
myself.” 

So while Donald, highly pleased with this 
arrangement, skipped away carrying his dainty 
white burden, Weezy proceeded to inclose her 


L.ofC. 


IOO 


! BOY DONALD 


invitation in a new envelope neatly addressed. 
This she gave later to Captain Bradstreet with 
her own hand. He received it with a courteous 
bow, but was careful not to read the note till 
she was gone. 

“ Well, well,” chuckled he, “ it seems the 
polite little lady didn’t choose to ask me to her 
party by word of mouth, not she ! Little Miss 
Weezy was bound to do the thing ship-shape, 
and she has done it ! ” 

In this opinion the gentleman was entirely 
correct. Weezy had a great deal of pride in 
her new house, and was determined that her 
first party should be a brilliant success. 

And Paul and Pauline, Kirke and Molly 
were very willing to help along the undertak- 
ing. They spent half the next morning in deco- 
rating the small rooms at Weezy Villa with 
flowers and vines, and in hanging cages upon 
the porch. Chatterbox was brought, of course, 
and Weezy’s beautiful little strawberry birds, 


THE HOUSE PARTY 


IOI 


and Jingo, Captain Bradstreet’s funny little 
monkey. 

Not content with these, Weezy braved all 
ridicule and had the black “ Knocker ” hen and 
chickens brought over from the poultry yard, 
also the white mice from Mr. Fay’s garden, 
and both coop and cage placed in front of the 
cottage. 

Shot, Kirke’s white fox terrier, frisked 
about, watching these curious doings with dog- 
gish surprise; and his master remarked in an 
aside to Paul. 

“ The premises make me think of a private 
menagerie. I only wonder Weezy didn’t want 
the burro in her collection.” 

The reception that afternoon was quite like 
a grown-up affair. Little Miss Weezy, with 
Brenda at her side, stood at the entrance of the 
little parlor, and shook hands with the guests 
as they filed in. Weezy wore her best dress, of 
course, a pink muslin very full in the skirt, the 


102 


BOY DONALD 


hem trimmed with three little ruffles which 
fluttered whenever she moved. 

Paul, seldom given to compliments, greeted 
her with the remark that she looked “ like a 
full-blown rose;” and Kirke, at his elbow, 
threatened to “ gather her and put her in a 
vase.” The little hostess could not help laugh- 
ing at this, but quickly recovered her dignity to 
say, 

“ Please walk into my dining-room, gentle- 
men, and have refreshments. Miss Molly and 
Miss Pauline will serve you to cakes and 
frappee.” 

Then she turned to welcome the next comers 
— who, as it happened, were the make-believe 
twins. Julius had on a new suit precisely like 
Donald’s, even to the “ neck-ties ” at the knees; 
and the delight of his little chum knew no 
bounds. “ See, Weezy,” he cried, “ Julie and I 
have clothes just like each other! ” 



The next comers were the twins Page 102 




THE HOUSE PARTY 


103 


“ Yes, Weezy,” put in Julius, “ don’t we look 
real twinny now ? ” 

“ Ever so much twinnier than we did before, 
/ think,” added Donald. 

“ Yes, you look very twinny indeed,” said 
Weezy. “ Now run in there where the table is, 
and let Molly and Pauline give you something 
nice.” 

She hurried the little urchins out of her par- 
lor as quickly as possible, in order to make 
room for Captain Bradstreet, whom she saw 
crossing the threshold. 

The portly, white-haired Captain shook 
hands with her cordially; congratulated her on 
her new house, and then moved on in his turn 
to give place to Brenda’s father, the next 
guest. 

Mr. Fay was a slender, graceful man, hardly 
taller than Paul Bradstreet. He had keen 
black eyes and pleasing manners; and as he 


104 


BOY DONALD 


approached his little hostess, his face wore an 
amused smile. 

“ It affords me the greatest pleasure to pay 
my respects to you to-day, little Miss Weezy,” 
he said, bowing over her hand as if she had 
been a duchess. “ Mrs. Fay wished to come 
with me but is obliged to send her regrets, 
owing to the illness of our son George.” 

“ Poor George ! Isn’t he any better, Mr. 
Fay?” asked Weezy, blushing at this formal 
greeting. 

“ Not much better. It is not probable that 
we shall venture to take him to Casa de Rosas 
this winter.” 

“What a pity, Mr. Fay!” said Kirke, 
standing near. “ Must you all give up going 
to the ranch ? ” 

“No, I shall be obliged to go there myself, 
Kirke, and soon too. There are certain mat- 
ters that require my personal attention. But 
to take my family is out of the question.” 


THE HOUSE PARTY 


io 5 

“ Because mamma has to stay at home with 
George, you know, Kirke,” put in Brenda in a 
discouraged tone. “ And ' I have to help 
mamma ; and Julie is so little. O, I’d give any- 
thing if I could go with papa ! ” 

“ Yes, indeed, I should think so, Brenda,’’ 
said Kirke so earnestly that Mr. Fay cast a 
quick glance toward him and asked, on the im- 
pulse of the moment. “ What would you say 
to making the journey yourself, Kirke, — you 
and Paul Bradstreet ? ” 

“ Paul and I? You are not in sober earnest, 
Mr. Fay? ” 

“ Yes, I am. I never thought of it till just 
now, but I should be delighted to have your 
company. In case I can obtain your parents’ 
consent, will you and Paul go with me? ” 

“ Will we go, Mr. Fay ? ” exclaimed Kirke, 
his eyes sparkling. “ Yes, you’d better believe 
we will ! Why, I’d go on my head, and I know 
Paul would ! ” 


io6 


BOY DONALD 


“ As to that, Kirke, if it’s all the same to 
you two lads, I’d prefer to have you go on 
your feet.” Mr. Fay spoke with a gratified 
laugh. “ Can you be ready by next Tuesday? ” 

“ To-day, Mr. Fay, if you say so.” 

“ Well, we’ll discuss the subject later, Kirke, 
outside of Weezy Villa.” 

And Mr. Fay turned to chat pleasantly with 
his young hostess, who, to tell the truth, was 
beginning to feel a little neglected at her own 
party. 

After all the visitors had arrived, and by 
twos and by threes had partaken of the dainty 
spread in the dining-room, Weezy took her 
violin from its corner in the parlor and played 
for them the prettiest piece that she knew. 
And, this having been enthusiastically encored, 
she afterward executed with Manuel Carillo, a 
quite difficult duet, which the two had been 
practicing together for a whole month. 

Then, as soon as the audience had ceased 


THE HOUSE PARTY 


107 

clapping, little Julius was mounted upon a 
chair to recite some rhymes, beginning : 


“ There once was a bird that lived up in a tree, 

And all he could whistle was ‘ Fiddle de dee ’ ! ” 

But, alas, at the close of the second line the 
little orator was interrupted and put to flight 
by saucy Chatterbox, who made him and every- 
body else laugh, by repeating the words, “ Fid- 
dul de dee ” as fast and as shrilly as he could. 

An awkward pause ensued after Julius’s 
failure. What should be done next to enter- 
tain the guests? Weezy glanced imploringly at 
Kirke. 

Kirke whispered in his little brother’s ear. 
“Sing your song about the Topsy Turvy 
World, won’t you, Don? I don’t believe the 
parrot knows that.” 

“ O, I don’t like to sing to so many peoples,” 
muttered Donald, frowning down upon the 
rosettes at his knees. 


io8 


BOY DONALD 


“ Please sing, Boysie, sing because I want 
you to,” persisted Kirke, smoothing the child’s 
golden curls. 

“ Will you stand close to me? Then I will,” 
said affectionate little Donald. 

And always ready to do anything for his be- 
loved Kirke, he sprang into the chair just 
vacated by Julius, and sang these stanzas : 

“If the butterfly courted the bee, 

And the owl the porcupine ; 

If churches were built in the sea, 

And three times one were nine; 

If the pony rode his master; 

If the buttercups ate the cows; 

If the cat had the dire disaster, 

To be worried, sir, by the mouse; 

If mamma sir, sold the baby 
To a gipsy for half a crown; 

If a gentleman, sir, was a lady, 

The world would be upside down! 

If any or all of these wonders 
Should ever come about, 

I should not consider them blunders, 

For I should be inside out 1 ” 


THE HOUSE PARTY 


109 

“ Haw ! haw ! haw ! ” laughed Captain Brad- 
street, when Donald had pronounced the last 
word with a musical flourish. “ That’s about 
the funniest song I’ve heard. I’m sorry it’s 
getting too late in the day to ask for another.” 

But the guests were now, one by one, taking 
their leave of little Miss Weezy and her friend 
Brenda, for the hours of the reception were 
over. 

The last to go were the make-believe twins. 
“ We’ve had a bee-you-tiful time, papa,” cried 
Julius as they passed Mr. Fay and Paul and 
Kirke under the ostrich-plume palm tree, talk- 
ing over the projected trip to the bee ranch. 

“ Yes,” echoed Donald, “ we’ve had a bee- 
you-ti-ful time! It’s the quickest afternoon 
ever I saw ! ” 


CHAPTER X 


OFF FOR THE BEE RANCH 

Captain Bradstreet and Mr. Rowe read- 
ily consented to Mr. Fay’s plan of taking Paul 
and Kirke with him to Casa de Rosas ; and the 
boys lost no time in making their preparations 
for the expedition. 

They cajoled Hop Kee into supplying them 
with cake and gingerbread; stuffed into the 
wagon oranges, pickles and tinned goods; and 
at the last moment remembered to add a store 
of bread stuffs from the baker’s. 

Pauline Bradstreet made for them quantities 
of chocolate fudge, Molly lent her opera glasses 
to aid them in the study of birds; and Weezy 
emptied her savings’ bank to buy them four 
dozen paper napkins. 

no 


OFF FOR THE BEE RANCH 


tn 


Of all the immediate friends little Donald 
alone took no pleasure in these proceedings, 
but went about with red eyes and a very long 
face. 

“ Don’t want my Kirke to go away and 
leave me,” he kept complaining, till his mother 
was forced finally to chide him. 

“ Don’t you want your brother to go and 
have a good time, Boysie? ” she asked, taking 
him on her lap. “ That’s naughty, dear. You 
mustn’t expect to have Kirke to yourself every 
minute.” 

“ Wish I could go wiv him, mamma.” 

“ And leave papa and mamma and sisters ? 
What should we do without our Boy Don- 
ald?” 

The child pouted and hung his head. 

“ How did God know I wanted to be Donald, 
mamma ? ” 

“ Why do you ask that, my precious ? ” 

“ O, because — wish you’d called me Kirke , 


112 


BOY DONALD 


mamma. Why didn’t you and papa call me 
Kirke?” 

“ How could we, sweetheart, when we had 
one Kirke already? We didn’t want two 
Kirkes, did we? ” 

Donald scowled more fiercely than ever. 

“ I' wish you’d named me Kirke, mamma, I 
think Kirke is the bestest name there is.” 

“ You think that, Boysie, because you love 
brother so much. Now mamma thinks Donald 
is just as pretty a name as Kirke ; and I’m quite 
sure Julius thinks so too. You may run right 
over to ask him.” 

Donald shook his head. He didn’t want to 
run over to ask Julius anything. No, and he 
didn’t want to see the pretty mice, or Captain 
Bradstreet’s funny monkey ; but, refusing to be 
diverted he finally slipped down from his 
mother’s lap and went in quest of Kirke. 

He clung to his brother all the afternoon, so 


OFF FOR THE BEE RANCH 


XI 3 


forlorn and tearful that it made Kirke posi- 
tively unhappy. 

“If Don is bound to cry himself sick over 
it I sha’n’t have any fun in going away,” he 
said to his mother that night when he found 
her with Molly in the sewing-room, mending 
an old suit for him to wear on his trip. “ How 
would it work to take him and Julie along? ” 

“ O, that’s not to be thought of, Kirke,” re- 
turned his mother, threading her needle. “ In 
the first place they haven’t been invited, and in 
the next they’d be too much care for Mr. Fay.” 

“ O, I’d look out for them, mamma. Paul 
would help. He’s prime in entertaining kids.” 

“ You’d have to tie the little boys into the 
wagon to keep them from pitching out,” said 
Molly. 

“ Yes, they would be a great deal of trouble, 
Kirke,” observed his mother, sewing on a 
button. “ I wouldn’t think of burdening my- 


BOY DONALD 


114 

self with them if I were you, especially as Mr. 
Fay has not suggested their going.” 

“ All right, mamma ; only I do hate to leave 
poor Don howling,” replied Kirke, and said 
no more. 

Oddly enough the subject was renewed next 
morning, and by Mr. Fay himself, who, on 
second thought had come to the conclusion 
that he wanted the little boys to be of the party. 

Mr. Rowe said, “That’s capital! ’Twill 
give them a great experience.” 

Mrs. Rowe demurred. She did not think it 
quite safe to send two young children forth 
on such a journey without a woman to look 
after them. But when she saw Donald cling- 
ing to his elder brother, and heard him say 
plaintively. “ Don’t go and leave me, my 
Kirke,” her heart was moved. She took Kirke 
one side and said to him. 

“ My son, you are always considerate and 
thoughtful of your little brother. I believe I 


OFF FOR THE BEE RANCH 


XI 5 

can trust him to you. Will you promise me 
to watch over both the children and not allow 
them out of your sight ? ” 

“ Indeed I promise, mamma,” replied Kirke, 
speaking in perfect good faith. 

It is needless to say that the twins were su- 
premely happy when told at the last minute of 
the gay good times in store for them. 

Early on Thursday morning the great 
wagon rattled away from Mr. Rowe’s door. 
Julius and Donald were side by side on the 
front seat with Mr. Fay, and Paul and Kirke 
on the seat behind them, where Donald, by 
turning his head, could give his brother quick 
loving glances as often as he felt inclined, — 
and that was very often indeed. 

At parting from his mother Donald’s mouth 
had trembled a little at the corners, but only 
for a moment. He was far too happy and ex- 
cited to weep. Was he not setting out on a 
lovely journey to the purple mountains that 


ii6 


BOY DONALD 


held up the far-off sky, — he and his beloved 
Kirke, and Julius, his dear make-believe twin? 
Smiles kept rippling over his face and disap- 
pearing in his little eddies of dimples. 

When the horses began to canter and the 
black horse nipped at the bay one, he and 
Julius laughed aloud, and the others laughed 
too to see the little fellows so joyous. 

“ I’m afraid this black horse is rather 
vicious,” said Mr. Fay, when the laughter had 
subsided ; “ but he was the best match for 
Crony that I could hire at short notice. Crony’s 
mate fell lame yesterday.” 

“ That’s a pity,” said Kirke. “ What is the 
name of the new horse ? ” 

“ Jim. I call him Jim Crow.” 

Before very long the travelers had left the 
city behind them, and were driving along a 
highway winding upward among the hills. 
Now and then they passed a cultivated farm 
or ranch bordered by rows of tall eucalyptus 


OFF FOR THE BEE RANCH 


117 

trees to protect the young orchards from the 
wind. Each ranch had a house upon it, and a 
great windmill ; but Kirke and Paul observed 
that the farther they journeyed the farther 
apart appeared the ranches. The spaces be- 
tween were covered with grass and a tangle of 
shrubs and bushes in which rabbits made 
themselves at home. Their less timid neigh- 
bors, the squirrels, lived nearer the highway; 
and as the wagon rolled along the boys often 
surprised one of these frisky creatures darting 
into its hole. 

At noon the party bought milk at a wayside 
ranch, and in the shade of the porch made a 
very nice luncheon of sandwiches, chicken 
salad, cakes and oranges. Then, when the 
horses had rested and eaten their dinner of 
barley-heads, Mr. Fay drove on, and toward 
night reached a level clearing at the mouth of 
a canon. 

This is the place where I always camp out 


BOY DONALD 


118 

the first night,” said he, driving along a short 
distance from the highway and halting beside a 
clump of red manzanitas. “ There’s a spring 
of water over yonder, if it hasn’t dried up.” 

Kirke and Paul hastened to look, and found 
a small, clear stream trickling from the hill- 
side. 

“ There’s plenty of water here, Mr. Fay,” 
called Paul ; “ but how shall we catch it ? ” 

“ We’ll dig a basin in the clay to hold it. I 
brought along a spade on purpose,” said Mr. 
Fay, beginning to unharness the span. “ I’ll 
get you to help me first with these nags, and 
we’ll attend to the spring afterward.” 

With the aid of the lads he was not long 
in taking out and picketing the horses, and 
giving them their barley. Then while Paul 
and Kirke kindled a fire of leaves and sticks, 
he scooped a deep hollow to retain the flowing 
water. Afterward Kirke filled the teakettle, 
and as soon as the water had boiled made a 


OFF FOR THE BEE RANCH 


119 


dish of hot chocolate, and they all had supper. 
They had hardly finished eating before Donald 
and Julius were nodding. 

“ Ah, ha ! ” said Mr. Fay, with a meaning 
look toward them. “ ‘ Lady Button Eyes ’ is 
coming! It’s high time little folks were abed.” 

“ All right. I’ll undress Don this minute,” 
returned Kirke, lifting his little brother to his 
lap. 

“ Better not, Kirke,” said Mr. Fay. “ The 
nights among the foot-hills are always cold. 
We’ll take off the children’s shoes, but they’d 
better sleep in their clothes.” 

“ Yes, yes, that’ll be a good way,” assented 
Boy Donald drowsily, “ I like to go to sleep 
easy ! ” 

And without more ado he and his little twin 
tumbled into their bed in the wagon, leaving 
Mr. Fay and the older boys to chat an hour or 
two longer by the blazing fire. 


CHAPTER XI 

JIM CROW PLAYS TRUANT 

“ Lady Button Eyes ” was kind to the 
four boys, giving them pleasant dreams, and 
keeping them soundly asleep all night. But 
she neglected Mr. Fay shamefully. Indeed it 
seemed to that gentleman that he had hardly 
dozed at all, when just before dawn he was 
aroused by the loud and repeated neighing of a 
horse. 

Stealing quietly out of bed in order not to 
disturb the sleepers, Mr. Fay went along to the 
place where the span had been tethered on the 
previous night. There was only one horse 
there ! 

Crony was stamping, snorting and pulling 
120 


JIM CROW PLAYS TRUANT 


121 


hard at his halter, as if mourning his faithless 
mate, and trying to get free in order to follow 
him. Evidently Jim Crow had taken to his 
heels and run away, leaving no trace of him- 
self except the marks of his teeth on the 
frayed end of the rope which had tied him to 
the sapling. 

“ Well, well,” thought Mr. Fay, much dis- 
turbed, “ Jim has served us a pretty caper ! ” 

After prowling about among the bushes for a 
while without finding the runaway he returned 
to the wagon for help. 

“ Wake up, my boy, wake up,” he whispered 
to Paul Bradstreet, shaking him by the 
shoulder. 

“ Yes, yes, certainly,” responded Paul in 
most obliging tones; and dozed again. 

“ What’s the rush ? ” growled Kirke, rising 
upon his elbow and staring into the gloom. 
“ It isn’t anywhere near sunrise ! ” 

“ Lie still, Kirke, don’t stir up the little 


122 


BOY DONALD 


folk,” expostulated Mr. Fay under his breath. 
“ Paul, I want you to help me catch Jim Crow.” 

“Catch Jim Crow, Mr. Fay?” Paul 
started up at once. “ Why, how did he get 
loose ? ” 

“ The rascal gnawed his rope. If I’d known 
he had that trick I should have looked out for 
it.” 

“ I’ll help you find him, Mr. Fay,” whispered 
Kirke, now thoroughly wide awake and eager 
for an adventure. “ I’ll take along his nose- 
bag. He’ll never mistrust it’s empty till he 
sticks his nose into it.” 

“ Jim’s nose is half-way home by this time, 
I’m afraid,” muttered Paul, pulling on his 
cap. 

“ I hardly think so, Paul,” said Mr. Fay, 
striding off. “ He couldn’t have been gone 
long before Crony missed him and began to 
whinny.” 


JIM CROW PLAYS TRUANT 


123 


Then as Kirke was about to follow, he 
added, 

“ We sha’n’t need you, Kirke. You’d better 
stay with the children. It wouldn’t do to leave 
them here alone.” 

Kirke saw at once that Mr. Fay was right. 
It might take a long time to find Jim Crow, 
and meanwhile the children must not be neg- 
lected. 

“ Well, I’ll look out for the kids, Mr. Fay,” 
said he politely enough, though far from 
pleased with being dropped from the chase. 

After Mr. Fay and Paul had disappeared in 
the direction of Silver Gate City, Kirke closed 
his eyes for another nap. But the strangeness 
and the stillness of the place seemed to oppress 
him and prevent him from sleeping. He 
missed the familiar noises heard at home, — the 
crowing of the cocks, the murmur of the sea- 
waves on the shore; yet when the silence was 


124 


BOY DONALD 


broken presently by the hooting of an owl, he 
felt almost afraid. 

“ This is the lonesomest place I ever got 
into. I don’t much blame Jim Crow for run- 
ning off,” he mused, as he turned and twisted 
and longed for daylight. “ I wonder what the 
meadow larks are about that they don’t so 
much as peep.” 

But while he watched, the sky brightened, 
the birds began to chirp; and then almost 
without warning the golden sun bounded up 
from behind the eastern mountains. It flashed 
its rays gloriously upon the brown grass, the 
gray greasewood, and the red manzinitas of 
the clearing. 

At this moment a roadrunner darted out of 
the chaparral and whirred by the wagon, al- 
most brushing the wheels with its long green 
tail-feathers. Kirke caught a glimpse of its 
bright purple crest and red scalp, and jumping 
into his shoes ran out to chase the bird, which 


JIM CROW PLAYS TRUANT 


125 


very soon took refuge in a tall prickly-pear 
cactus. 

“ You’re a wise fellow, you old snake-killer. 
You know I can’t touch you in there without 
getting pricked,” thought the pursuer, as he 
searched about for a long stick. 

But when he had driven the roadrunner from 
its perch in the cactus, the bird ran on and on. 
Kirke followed till he finally lost sight of the 
fascinating creature in the underbrush. 

It was not till he turned to retrace his steps 
that the lad perceived he had strayed far from 
the main road, and really was not quite sure 
where to look for it. Then he remembered 
the children and began to feel uneasy. 

“ What if those kids should wake up before 
I get back ? ” he said aloud to a golden- 
breasted lark on a sycamore. “ Gee whiz ! 
Wouldn’t it be a circus ? ” 

But after what seemed to Kirke an endless 
while he stumbled at last upon the highway 


126 


BOY DONALD 


and found himself drawing near the wagon. 
To his relief everything was quiet. 

“ Well, well, I must say the little fellows 
beat me on sleeping! ” he reflected, lifting the 
canvas curtain of the vehicle to peer within. 
“ If they were as hungry as I am they’d be 
singing out for their breakfasts.” 

“ Goodness me ! ” cried he, and raised the 
curtain higher, “ Why, where are the kids ? I 
never once thought there was any harm in leav- 
ing ’em a minute to go and look up that road- 
runner ! But the question is, where are — those 
— kids? ” 

Where, indeed? Kirke looked in vain for 
the two small heads he had so lately seen nes- 
tling close together on the self-same pillow. 
There lay the pillow, with a ridge in the middle 
and a hollow on either side of the ridge. But 
the dear little sleepers had disappeared. 


CHAPTER XII 


THE TWINS ASTRAY 

On finding their bed vacant, Kirke’s first 
thought was that the little boys had seen him 
coming, and had hidden in the bushes with the 
mischievous intention of springing out upon 
him unawares. He knew of old their habit of 
concealing themselves in sly nooks, and cast a 
quick glance at the surrounding chaparral, ex- 
pecting the little fellows to jump forth at any 
moment to deafen him with a terrific “ Boo ! ” 
But in vain he looked and listened. There 
was no mysterious rustling among the leaves, 
no sign anywhere of human life. The only 
sound that fell on Kirke’s ear was the distant 
whinnying of Crony, impatient for his break- 
fast and for the return of Jim. 

127 


128 


BOY DONALD 


" Come out, you little jokers, come right out 
of those bushes,” demanded Kirke in a confi- 
dent tone, as if he knew perfectly well the chil- 
dren were there. “ Let’s make a fire now and 
get breakfast.” 

The only response was the whistle of a quail 
far up the canon. Kirke called again, this time 
with less assurance. 

“ We’ll have griddle cakes, Don, think of 
that! Griddle cakes hot, with maple syrup on 
’em!” 

Still no reply. Kirke felt cold chills creep- 
ing down his back. 

“ The little kids can’t have heard me, that’s 
plain, or that syrup would have brought ’em,” 
he muttered. 

He fell to shouting, first “ Donald,” then 
“ Julius ” at the top of his lungs. 

For all the answer he received he might as 
well have spared himself the effort. He was 
only talking to the birds and insects. 


THE TWINS ASTRAY 


129 

Now in a panic he ran hither and thither, 
sometimes hallooing the little boys, sometimes 
mumbling in a crazy fashion, 

“ They’re lost! Yes, those children are lost, 
Kirke Rowe, and there’s nobody to blame for 
it but you! Do you understand that, Master 
Kirke? You had no business to leave the 
wagon. What do you care for roadrunners? 
O, wouldn’t I like to kick you! 

“ ’Twas bad enough our losing Jim Crow; 
but Jim has horse sense, Jim can find his 
way home. But those poor little kids ! 
They don’t know north and south from a 
grasshopper. Supposing they should step on 
a rattlesnake! Supposing — Hark! I believe 
to my soul I hear the blessed little scamps 
chattering! ” 

With a deep sigh of relief Kirke rushed in 
the direction whence came the sound of voices ; 
but to his great disappointment, instead of find- 
ing Donald and Julius, he only came upon Mr. 


13 ° 


BOY DONALD 


Fay and Paul leading Jim by the broken 
halter. 

“ Is that you, Kirke? Well, we’ve captured 
Jim Crow,” cried Paul cheerily. “ Is this the 
last call to breakfast? I’m hungry enough to 
eat a meeting-house.” 

Kirke had no joke ready. He did not even 
rejoice in the finding of Jim. 

“ The children are gone ! ” he panted un- 
heeding. “ I can’t find them high or low ! ” 

“ The children gone, Kirke ! ” ejaculated 
Mr. Fay. “ How can that be? Didn’t I leave 
them in your care ? ” 

“Yes, you did, Mr. Fay, you did! And I 
stayed in the wagon a long while waiting for 
them to wake up. But — ” 

“ But what, Kirke ? Be quick ! ” 

“ Well, ’twas awful lonesome there, Mr. 
Fay; and a roadrunner happened along, and I 
chased him and — ” 

“ You don’t mean to say, Kirke Rowe, that 


THE TWINS ASTRAY 


131 

you went off — actually went off — and left 
those poor little boys in this wild country un- 
protected? ” cried Mr. Fay, much excited. “ I 
wouldn’t have believed it of you — not for a 
moment ! I’ve always supposed you were a lad 
to be trusted.” 

“ They were sound asleep, Mr. Fay, both 
of ’em; and I didn’t intend to leave ’em two 
minutes,” faltered Kirke, cut to the heart. 
“ But coming back I somehow lost my way.” 

“As you might have foreseen you would, 
Kirke, a stranger out here ! Well, go on, when 
you reached the wagon what then ? ” 

“ Why, Don and Julius weren’t there ; and 
that’s all I know about it, Mr. Fay. I’ve been 
hallooing them ever since. Didn’t you and 
Paul hear me scream ? ” 

“ We couldn’t have heard you very far, 
Kirke,” interrupted Paul, “ Jim made such a 
racket pressing through the underbrush and 
neighing.” 


I 3 2 


BOY DONALD 


“ Have you searched the canon, Kirke ? ” 
asked Mr. Fay, walking on rapidly in the di- 
rection of the wagon. 

“ Not yet, Mr. Fay, ’tisn’t long since I 
missed them. But O, dear, if the kids have 
strayed into the canon, how can we ever, ever 
find them ? ” 

“ Look there for them now, Kirke, you and 
Paul. Snatch a luncheon on your way and eat 
it as you go along,” said Mr. Fay briskly. 

Time was precious. He had no words to 
waste. 

The lads stopped at the wagon for food as 
he had suggested, but Kirke was too wretched 
to swallow a single mouthful. 

“ I may as well take something along for 
the children though,” he said, crowding a few 
biscuits and cookies into a paper bag. Then 
he and Paul made a dash for the canon, fol- 
lowed soon after by Mr. Fay, who had re- 
mained behind only long enough to fasten Jim 


THE TWINS ASTRAY 


I 33 


by a chain halter, and give him and Crony their 
provender. 

O, how exceedingly forlorn it was, how un- 
like what had been anticipated! Instead of a 
group of five happy travelers sitting down to- 
gether to a nice hot breakfast in the morning 
sunshine, here were three of the number, tired 
and anxious, traipsing in separate ways 
through brier and brake; while the remaining 
two wandered, bewildered and half-famished 
nobody knew where. 

And, of the miserable company surely not 
one could have been more utterly wretched 
than Kirke, who by his own heedlessness, and 
worse still, his disobedience, had caused this 
dire mishap. 


CHAPTER XIII 

THE EMPTY “ WAGON-CHAMBER ” 

If you suppose that the little twins had slept 
late that morning after they were left alone in 
the wagon, you are very much mistaken. The 
fact is, Kirke had hardly chased the roadrunner 
into the cactus before the bright sun shone 
through the parting of the canvas curtain full 
upon the deserted children’s faces, and Boy 
Donald opened his eyes and gazed about him. 

When he discovered himself in bed with his 
jacket on, he opened his eyes wider yet and 
chuckled with satisfaction. How fine to wake 
up dressed for the day — all but his boots! 
Why shouldn’t he sleep in his clothes every 
night, and so save the bother of putting them 


i34 


THE EMPTY “ WAGON-CHAMBER 


T 35 


on in the morning? He wouldn’t wear a 
nightie any more, if he could help it, no indeed ; 
and he didn’t believe Julie would either. 

Turning over in bed to ask the question he 
saw that his little chum was still asleep — 
whereupon he proceeded to tickle him in the 
back of his neck. Julius moved uneasily, 
yawned, and after a wondering glance around 
the queer chamber on wheels, demanded. 

“ Where’s my papa ? ” 

“ I guess he’s taking his air,” returned 
Donald coolly. 

“ O dear, and never ’vited me! Where are 
Paul and Kirke? ” 

“ I don’t know. I guess they are taking 
their airs too.” 

“ Well, I don’t, Donny. I guess they’re 
gone to bring us some milk for breakfast,” said 
Julius after due reflection, little suspecting that 
there was not a cow or a barn within five miles 
of the place where they lay. 


136 


BOY DONALD 


Well, I wish they’d hurry theirselves,” 
sighed Donald, sitting up in bed and clasping 
his knees. “ It’s awful still here, Julie. No- 
body wiv me only but just you; and you keep 
being asleep and being asleep.” 

“ O, O, what a story, Donny Woe ! I’m 
not a bit asleep, I’m a good deal wide-awaker 
than you are ! ” 

And little Julius whisked out of bed and 
into his shoes in such haste that he laced the 
shoes all wrong, and drew one of the strings 
into a hard knot. 

“ I haven’t slept a drop for ever so long, 
Julie. I was awake first,” retorted Boy 
Donald, slipping to the ground to get his own 
boots which had fallen out of the wagon. 

“ O, hum, wisht I had a button-hook,” he 
said after drawing them on. 

Of course he could not find the hook, how- 
ever. Who ever knew a little boy to find such 
an article without assistance? And it ended 


THE EMPTY “ WAGON-CHAMBER ” 137 

in his leaving the boots unfastened, which, if 
not the better way, was certainly much the 
easier one. 

“ Keep still, won’t you, Donny ? ” cried 
Julius, hopping down near him, and perking 
his touseled brown head on one side in a listen- 
ing attitude. “ Seems if I hear my papa com- 
ing!” 

“ Seems if I hear my Kirke,” returned Boy 
Donald, running eagerly forward, his boots 
slipping up and down at the heel with every 
step he took. 

“ Wait, Donny, wait for me,” entreated his 
little twin. “ Don’t I want to go to meet my 
papa, you s’pose ? There he is, walking 
through those bushes.” 

Obliging little Donald did wait; and then 
he and Julius danced along hand in hand. 
But it was not Mr. Fay, it was not Kirke or 
any other person that they presently surprised, 
moving about in the underbrush. Far from 


138 


BOY DONALD 


it. It was simply lonesome old Crony, switch- 
ing his tail and stamping his hoofs to drive 
away the flies. 

“ O, dear,” whimpered Julius, “ ’Tisn’t my 
papa, ’tisn’t my papa at all ; ” and in a 
paroxysm of homesickness he began to shriek 
wildly for his father. 

“ I wouldn’t cry, Julie, your papa’ll be here 
pretty quick,” said hopeful Donald encourag- 
ingly. 

Donald usually thought everything would 
come out right, while Julius on the contrary 
was afraid everything would come out wrong. 

“ I know where your papa is, Julie,” con- 
tinued Donald, suddenly noticing the absence 
of Jim Crow. 

“ Do you, Donny ? Where ? ” asked Julius, 
wiping his eyes on his sleeve. 

“ He’s gone to ride.” 

“ Who said so? ” 

“ Nobody, I just guessed it my owji self.” 


THE EMPTY " WAGON-CHAMBER ” 139 

“ O, dear, you don’t know much, Donny.” 
Julius’s tears gushed forth afresh. “ You don’t 
know how to guess guesses.” 

“ Yes, I do, Julie, see if I don’t. This is a 
real easy one. I guess your papa and my Kirke 
and Paul have gone to ride on Jim’s back.” 

“ No, no, Donny, they never ” — Julius shook 
his head very decidedly. 

“ Well, then, where is Jim? ” asked Donald. 
" He’s gone too.” 

“ I don’t know where he is, Donny, but he 
wouldn’t let ’em all get on his back, Jim 
wouldn’t. He’d pitch ’em off quick’s a wink 
and kick ’em, — see, like this.” 

And to show how the vicious Jim would act 
Julius struck out savagely, first with his right 
foot, then with his left. Two could play at this 
game ; and next moment Donald was throwing- 
up his own heels and laughing so boisterously 
that down-hearted Julius was really beguiled 
into laughing himself. Perhaps the merry 


140 


BOY DONALD 


exercise sharpened the little boys’ appetites, for 
Donald soon remarked that he wanted a “ sand- 
wedge.” 

“ I want a sand-wedge too,” returned Julius 
quickly. “ My papa shut ’em up in a tin box — 
I sawed him.” 

“ Then let’s get some,” said Donald. And 
the little Babes in the Wood skipped back to 
the wagon,, where they made a hearty break- 
fast from the remains of last night’s supper. 

Having finished their repast, they must needs 
have a drink of water; and trudged blithely 
away to the spring. If they had washed their 
faces and hands while at the spring it might 
have been well, but the idea never occurred to 
them. 

“ Now we’ll play I’m Jingo. Play I’m run- 
ning away, Julie, and you can’t catch me,” said 
Boy Donald, throwing down the drinking- 
gourd and hopping on all fours toward the 
canon yawning in front of them. 


THE EMPTY " WAGON-CHAMBER 


141 


Julius pursued, and overtook the mimic 
monkey in a tangle of sage brush. 

“ Play Jingo was mad, play he tried to 
scratch and bite you,” panted Donald, facing 
quickly about, gnashing his teeth and clawing 
the air with his fingers. 

“ No, Donny, I don’t want to play monkey 
any more,” said Julius shrinking backward. 
“ Play I was a drunkard man, stagg’ing round 
this way,” — he lurched from side to side. 
“ Play you’re a big blue p’liceman, Donny ; 
coming to take me.” 

“ O, yes, I’ll take you to jail, Julie, that’ll 
be good fun,” assented Donald, springing up 
from his hands and knees, and making a bold 
rush at his intended prisoner. Julie turned and 
ran; and it must be said that for a supposed 
“ drunkard man ” he ran very fast, indeed he 
rushed over the ground at such a rate that be- 
fore Donald could overtake him the boys were 
deep in the canon, among ferns and rushes 


142 


BOY DONALD 


higher than their heads, and under tall oaks 
and sycamores that shut out the rays of the 
sun. 

“ I’ve got you, you old drunkard man, I’ve 
got you,” roared Donald, seizing the little fugi- 
tive in his arms. 

Julius laughed at first, and then began to 
shiver. 

“ You shouldn’t ’a made me come in this 
dark old place, Donny,” he complained, “ I’m 
scared.” 

“ / didn’t make you come ! And I’m scared 
my own self, Julie! ’Sides, my feet hurt.” 

“ Too bad, Donny,” said Julius, “ let’s go 
out.” 

“ Which way, Julie? Can you see the out? ” 

“ Not a speck,” grumbled Julius, stumbling 
over a root. “ How can I see when the grass 
keeps a-ticklin’ me and a sticken’ into my 
eyes ? ” 

“ Don’t go so fast, Julie,” called Donald, 


THE EMPTY " WAGON-CHAMBER 


M3 


limping after him. “ You might fall over a 
prospice, you know.” 

“ What’s a prospice ? O, dear, dear ! ” 

“ It’s a — it’s a — well, a prospice is some- 
thing that breaks your neck. And then what 
would your papa say ? ” 

“ I want to see my papa,” moaned Julius, 
struggling with a second wave of homesick- 
ness. “ I shouldn’t ha’ thought my pa’d ’a’ 
gone off and left his little boy all alone. I 
shouldn’t, now certigly.” 

“ Nor I shouldn’t too,” chimed in Boy 
Donald. “ Not any peoples anywhere round, 
not anything ’cept bushes, oh, dear ! — and 
black woods with great big bears in. Oh ! Oh ! 
Oh!” 

And here, caught at last in the same wave 
of homesickness that had engulfed his timorous 
young friend, little Donald’s high courage 
failed him, and his tears gushed forth. 

“ O, O, Julie, I want my Kirke ! ” he 


144 


BOY DONALD 


screamed, “ O, why didn’t my Kirke take care 
o’ me? ” 

This sudden plaintive outburst from a little 
comrade hitherto so merry, surprised Julius at 
once into calmness; and throwing his arms 
about Donald’s neck he murmured, softly, 

“ Don’t cry, Donny dear, please don’t cry ! 
I'll take care o’ you ! ” 

But his grieving chum refused to be com- 
forted. 

“ Kirke told my mamma he’d take care of 
his little bruvver. I heard him, Julie,” re- 
peated Donald again and again. “ He told it 
two times, and then he went off and didn’t ! ” 

And with a sob in his throat, and with 
blisters on both his heels, Donald stumbled 
blindly over a log, dragging Julius after him. 
There they lay in a mournful heap, weeping 
and wailing, when — But that belongs to the 
next chapter. 


CHAPTER XIV 


A HAPPY HOME-COMING 

It was Kirke who found the little play- 
twins. He heard them crying and flew to them 
over brakes and reeds and bushes, as if his 
heels had wings. And when at last he had 
the tiny pilgrims in his arms, such a hugging 
and sobbing and laughing as there was! 

Then followed a loud hallooing and clapping 
of hands to attract the attention of Mr. Fay 
and Paul, who, you may be sure, were not 
many minutes in reaching the scene of action. 

Afterward they all went back to the wagon, 
Julius being carried by his father and Donald 
by Kirke. And they kindled a fire and had 
breakfast immediately ; and late as it was Kirke 
baked griddle cakes for the hungry little wan- 
145 


146 


BOY DONALD 


derers, and gave them so much maple 
syrup that it was a wonder they were not made 
ill. 

To tell the further adventures of the journey 
would require another book. Let it suffice to 
say that from this hour everything went 
smoothly with our little party. The next night 
they encamped in a high valley among the foot- 
hills, and the following afternoon arrived at 
the bee-ranch, where they saw hundreds of little 
white bee-stands arranged in long parallel rows 
with narrow lanes between, like streets in a 
miniature city. 

After a day at Casa de Rosas, and two days 
on the return trip, the travelers reached home 
on Saturday afternoon. 

When the wagon stopped at Mr. Rowe’s 
gate Molly and Weezy ran out to greet the 
party, and after kissing her brothers, the first 
thing Molly said was, 

“ O, Donny darling, what have you and 


A HAPPY HOME-COMING 


147 


Julius been doing to your clothes ? You’re per- 
fect little ragamuffins.” 

“ Bushes tored us, woreded my heels out 
too,” said Donald, slipping downdnto his sis- 
ter’s arms, almost too tired and sleepy to keep 
his eyes open. “ Kirke is heeling my heels 
again though. He’s heeling ’em all nice with 
pilaster.” 

Then Kirke had to tell of the little boys’ 
getting lost; it was useless trying to keep it a 
secret. He told the story truthfully, not spar- 
ing himself in the least. 

“ O, Kirke, ’twas dreadful, I can’t bear to 
hear it,” exclaimed Molly, breaking down and 
crying outright. 

“ Poor little dears, how they must have suf- 
fered ! ” said Mrs. Rowe, with a sob in her 
voice. “ But let us thank Heaven, Kirke, that 
you found them so soon! If they had strayed 
farther into the canon it might have been much 
more serious.” 


148 


BOY DONALD 


“ Aren’t you going to scold me, mamma ? ” 
faltered Kirke. “ I deserve it, that’s sure ! I 
thought I was big enough and old enough to 
look out for those kids, but I give it up now, 
I’m a bad lot.” 

“ I don’t give it up in the least,” replied his 
mother, laying a caressing hand upon the lad’s 
shoulder. “ You’ve had a lesson, dear, that 
will last you for the rest of your life. After 
this, my precious son, I shall trust you as I 
never did before ! ” 

“ But now suppose you take your little 
brother in your arms and carry him upstairs? 
I will follow.” 

Kirke sprang to do her bidding. And really 
it seemed quite necessary that Donald should be 
carried, for he could not walk much better 
than a “ drunkard man.” 

When he was finally in his own pleasant 
room he said drowsily, 


A HAPPY HOME-COMING 


149 


“ O, it’s so much nicer than the wagon 
chamber ! I want my clo’es off too ! ” 

And there came a look on his little face of 
the calmest, sweetest content as Weezy sat be- 
side his bed and sang to her violin. 

“ So, so, rock-a-by so ! 

Off to the garden where dreamikins grow; 

And here is a kiss on your winkyblink eyes, 

And here is a kiss on your dimpledown cheek, 

And here is a kiss for the treasure that lies 
In the beautiful garden way up in the skies 
Which you seek — 

Now mind these three kisses wherever you go — 

So, so, rock-a-by so ! ” 

Then Weezy stopped singing, but kept on 
playing gently, while her mother took up the 
song in her soft loving voice. 

“ And by-low, as you rock-a-by go, 

Don’t forget mother, who loveth you so! 

And here is her kiss on your weepydeep eyes. 

And here is her kiss on your peachypink cheek, 

And here is her kiss for the dreamland that lies 
Like a babe on the breast of those far-away skies 
Which you seek — 

The blinky-wink garden where dreamikins grow — 
So, so, rock-a-by so ! ” 


BOY DONALD 


1 5 ° 

But before she had half finished singing, 
Boy Donald was soundly asleep. With a happy 
smile on his face he was wandering off hand 
in hand with his dear little twin, to “ the garden 
where dreamikins grow.” 


THE END 
































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